'"<>, 



<h 












1. '^ -• "^■i<^S-' * 



.<' 



'^ ^' 



V> 



0^^^ -/• 









.^^>• ^', 



„.:^ ^^. 









^ ^^ %.^ 






_^.>' -^^^ 



"^^ v^' 



c^' . ''^,. .-Jy^ 



<j=s 









.-; -71 



N" ■'. 



r '-t^ ^ 



^>-'^'- 



d 1 1 ■* s'^ 



■>^^i^ 






c?- 



•.\ 






^^ -c; 



s-* s^. ". 



.li* 



V c ° '' "^^ « '^o- 



,■0- 






o ■ 


, 'OO- 




•%; 










-^~ 



■^^. '' / * * s - 



a^ 



.-^^ 



--. v^' 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2010 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/canadianfolklifeOOgree 



CANADIAN 

FOLK- LIFE 

AND 

FOLK-LORE 



WILLIAA\ PARKER GREENOUGH 
"G.DE MONTAV/BAN " 

£TC.,£TC. 



'^SW^W 



WITH 
ILLUSTRATIONS 




BY 



VV^TER C. GREENOUGH 



GEORGE HRICHAAOND 

I897 



,0 0/ 



L9721 





Copyrighted, l897, by 
William Parker Greenough 



A 
V 



TO 

SIR H. G. JOLY DE LOTBINIERE, 

ONE OF THE TRUEST OF CANADIANS, 

I Dedicate this Book. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Introduction ix 

PART 

I. My Friends, the Habitants of Canada 3 

II. Animal Life and Fish 17 

III. Occupations 33 

IV. Amusements— CoNTES and Raconteurs 45 

V. The Church 67 

VI. Marriages and Festivities . 85 

Vli. The Feudal System lot 

Vlil. Changes in Type iiS 

IX. Chansons Canadiennes 129 

X. Language— Education 149 

XI. Conveyances 161 

XII. S0A\E National Characteristics 169 

XIII. A V/inter Excursion 179 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



FLAX-BREAKER Frontispiece 

PRESCOTT GATE {inside) Facing page x 

PRESCOTT GATE {outside) " xii 

HOPE GATE " 4 

PALACE HILL " 6 

ST. LOUIS GATE " 8 

THE REAPER " 10 

PLOUGHING " 13 

FLAX-BREAKING " 14 

BEAVERS' HUT " 22 

NAZAIRE " 46 

LOG-DRIVING " 50 

STORY-TELLING " S8 

CALVAIRE " 70 



/ 



IN THE PROCESSION Facing page 74 

76 
109 
112 
176 
187 
190 



J 



BEFORE AN ALTAR . . 
CANADIAN FARM-HOUSE 
VERCHERES 

WINTER (Emblematical) 

CROSSING THE LAKE . 
WINTER SUNRISE . . . 



INTRODUCTION 




< 
o 

H 
(- 
O 

o 



INTRODUCTION 



Within the last few years travellers, and especially 
American travellers, have felt that their tours on this con- 
tinent were incomplete unless they included a visit to the 
venerable, historic, and picturesque city of Quebec. In 
antiquity it has few equals in the New World, in pic- 
turesqueness and beauty of situation it is unequalled, and 
in historic interest it has no rival. 

Quebec indeed well repays the visitor, whether he 
be the vacation tourist or the leisurely student of times 
and manners. For the one a day or a week may be well 
spent in simple sight-seeing, and for the other a month or a 
year may be made to yield new pleasures every day. 

Most of the visitors to Quebec, however, come in sum- 
mer, and the winter aspects and charms of the city were 
until recently but little known and little appreciated. 

The winter carnivals of 1 894 and 1 896 brought to the 
city a goodly number of strangers, not one of whom left 
it without carrying away delightful recollections of strik- 
ing scenes and unexpected pleasures. The carnivals were 
general festivals in which every one had a share. The 
lookers-on were as interesting as the snowshoers or the 
ice fortress. Universal hilarity prevailed, such as one 
would expect to find only in climates considered more 
favorable to out-of-door diversions. 



X INTRODUCTION. 

English and American visitors, accustomed to take 
their pleasures soberly, could hardly understand how a 
whole city could be so completely en fete as was Quebec 
at these times. They, however, quickly fell into the 
spirit of the occasion, and each gladly contributed his 
share to the pleasures of the rest. Many then realized 
how an old habitue of Quebec would love it as well in 
winter as in summer. 

But in neither summer nor winter would the visitor 
see much of the country people, the habitants. He might 
see a few on the markets or elsewhere and be interested 
in some of their peculiarities, but of their home life, a life 
diiTering at so many points from his own, he would learn 
nothing. 

The habitant is simply the farmer. The name was 
given to those early settlers who remained to inhabit the 
country, to distinguish them from officials, traders, and 
others who were not expected to reside in it permanently. 

For many years business relations have brought me 
much into contact with the habitants, and for some years 
past have induced me to live almost constantly among 
them. My friends and acquaintances, finding so many 
interesting points about the people, asked me many ques- 
tions about them. As I had at some seasons of the year 
a good deal of leisure it occurred to me to write out my 
replies to these questions, and perhaps answer others not 
yet asked and give some information not yet called for. 

Naturally, the matter grew under my hand, and I 
found after some time that my manuscript had increased 



INTRODUCTION. XI 

to rather a formidable pile, all the more so that since my 
readers were expected to be only persons with whom I was 
acquainted 1 had not taken pains to eliminate the personal 
element. After the manuscript had passed from hand to 
hand until it was worn almost to fragments, and after 
many people had said, " 1 wish you would get this printed 
and send me a copy," it was decided to put the matter into 
type and reproduce in other forms some of the photo- 
graphs and sketches that accompanied it. 

What 1 had written related only to the French Cana- 
dian people and to life in some country parishes. Nothing 
was said about people of other races who came into the 
country later, but now form an important though not very 
large part of the population. They demand separate con- 
sideration. 

Nor had I said anything about the city of Quebec. 
Abler writers have written of it often and well. But when 
collecting my papers for the printer, 1 found I had some 
photographs of the old gates of the city, now demolished. 
As they were among the last to be taken and are becoming 
somewhat rare, I decided to have them copied in half-tone 
and inserted in this volume, partly as a means of pres- 
ervation and partly because they may revive in some 
people memories of the days before Quebec became mod- 
ernized. 

Public convenience doubtless required that the gates 
and some parts of the old fortifications should be removed, 
but their removal detracted very much from the pictur- 
esqueness and distinctive character of the city. 



iii INTRODUCTION. 

The three gates now standing — two of them on the 
sites of the old ones — are quite modern structures, and 
harmonize only moderately well with the connecting walls. 
One of them (Kent Gate) is entirely a recent opening, not 
belonging to the old system of fortifications. Prescott 
Gate, formerly standing on Mountain Hill, Palace Gate, 
about half way up Palace Street, and Hope Gate have 
entirely disappeared. Their sites may be easily located, 
although the immediate surroundings have been very 
much changed. 



o 
o 

O 

> 




part 11 

MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS 
OF CANADA 



MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS 
OF CANADA 



As one should always eat of the menu of the day and 
drink of the wine of the country, so he who wishes to note 
and most enjoy the distinctive features of Canada should 
visit her in winter, for it is then that she wears her native 
dress. Her summer habiliments, though beautiful and 
fascinating, are only the dress of a fete day. She begins 
to decorate herself in May, but it is not till the days are 
longest that she appears in her fullest glory. These tran- 
sient adornments are again laid aside at the first touch of 
September frosts, to reappear in their perfection only when 
the June sun begins to run high. Such is the Canadian 
season,— a short four months, in which Nature seems to 
do all her out-of-door work. For the long remainder of 
the year her retarded but no less potent activities are hid- 
den from sight. 

When 1 speak of Canada I mean the Canada of old ; 
what in the first half of this century was called Lower 
Canada, now the Province of Quebec. The other Prov- 
inces of the eastern part of the Dominion of Canada have 
their own distinctive features, but, with some exceptions, 
they are of more ordinary, well known character. There 
is grand scenery to be found in many other parts of the 
Dominion also, but the special human interest of Lower 
Canada is wanting. Lower Canada, the Province of 
Quebec, has scenery, climate, institutions, people, history, 
of its own, all peculiar and unlike those of any of the 
other Provinces. 



4 MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA. 

It is of them and of them only that I propose to write, 
and mainly, too, of country and winter life, of which the 
ordinary tourist or visitor sees but very little, 
\ Some people have an idea that the climate of Canada 
in winter is that of the Arctic regions. The climate is 
cold, it is true, hut it is an endurable cold, dry and clear; 
far less trying- than the damp airs of eastern New Eng- 
land, even at the difference of 10 or 15 degrees of the 
thermometer. Still, many may be surprised to learn that 
Quebec is 150 miles farther south than Paris, 325 miles 
south of London, 675 miles south of Glasgow, and 1025 
miles south of St, Petersburg^ Westward from Quebec 
the same parallel passes not far from Duluth, Minnesota, 
and the mouth of the Columbia river. Crossing the 
Pacific we should touch the northern part of Japan and 
the southernmost points of Siberia, and then away across 
the whole of China into southern Russia. Going east 
on the same parallel we should pass near Lyons in France 
and the line between Switzerland and Italy, and should go 
far south of all Germany and through the southern part 
of Hungary. It was said in the old " Peter Parley's Geog- 
raphy," that I studied when I was a small boy, that Que- 
bee has the summer of Paris and the winter of St, Peters- 
burg. 

The greatest cold that I have personally recorded was 
38 degrees below zero, and that was in the woods. Prob- 
ably in the city of Quebec or in particularly exposed places 
it was at that time 42° or 45 '^ below. But this was only 
for a few hours, and it did not prevent the lumbermen 
from working as usual. Of course feet and fingers, ears 
and faces, would soon be frozen if carelessly exposed to 
such a temperature ; but the workingman, thickly clad in 
three or four heavy flannel shirts and pairs of trousers, and 
with numberless pairs of stockings on his feet, experiences 




HOPE GATE 



MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA. 5 

no inconvenience. From about 10^ above to 10° below 
zero, if without wind, is very comfortable winter weather 
and the Canadian climate burnishes a good deal of it. It 
is not cold enough to interfere with almost any business 
or pleasure that the people may have in hand. 

The spring may be considered to come on late, but 
once started, vegetation advances with wonderful rapidity. 
Fields will usually be covered with snow till the middle of 
April and sometimes even later, but in two or three days 
after it is gone the grass is up fresh and bright. The 
ground is seldom frozen deep before it is covered with 
snow, and so as soon as the snow is gone the frost is out, 
and on dry land ploughing can be commenced at once. 

If the spring comes late, the autumn comes early. 
Heavy frosts may be expected in September, and by the 
middle of October everything liable to be damaged by 
cold weather should be harvested. 

Naturally, growth must be extremely rapid, so rapid in 
fact that its progress is perceptible from day to day. 

For instance, the writer had occasion to go to a fishing 
camp which was on the edge of a lake and surrounded by 
thick woods, on the 18th or 19th of May. In the open 
country the roads were passable for wheeled vehicles, but 
once in the woods the way was a succession of mud-holes 
and snow-banks. The lake was crossed on the ice, and 
on this occasion on foot, for greater caution, although 
only two or three days before horses had crossed on it. 
On the 20th the ice looked dangerous, and bits of open 
water could be seen ; on the 21st these spaces were much 
larger, and on the evening of the 22d scarcely any ice 
was visible. The country people say it does not melt, 
but becomes saturated with water and sinks nearly all at 
once. 

On the 2Qth there were few signs of spring noticeable 



6 MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA. 

on the hills that faced to the north, opposite the camp. 
We could discern a slight freshness in the evergreens and 
some swelling of buds on birches and maples, but that was 
all. The 21st showed a decided change, and on the 24th 
those hills were almost a mass of verdure, growing thicker 
and richer with each succeeding day. Still we had no 
difficulty in finding snow in which to pack our fish. 

On the 20th of September following, four months later, 
the trees began to look decidedly brown, and every now 
and then some bright crimsons of maples and yellows of 
birches stood out sharply. The morning of the 21st 
showed a wonderful change, and two or three days later 
reds and yellows were the predominant colors, and the 
evergreens had lost all their freshness. In only four 
months all this mass of forest growth had budded, blos- 
somed, ripened, and faded. 

As in the forests so it is in the fields, and the farmer's 
work on his crops must mainly be done^in this short time. 
But this time is a time of beauty. So much has been 
said and written of the winter climate of Canada that 
people are apt to think that it has no other, which is an 
entirely erroneous idea. Later May and June are beauti- 
ful, rich with ever-changing hues of springing grass and 
bursting vegetation. July and August see them mature 
and begin to ripen, while September and October are the 
months of all-completed harvest. There is no dallying. 
Nature keeps the farmer busy, and every day shows what 
she is doing for him. It is not here that spring comes 
slowly with scarcely noticeable steps, as in more southern 
regions. She comes late but not slowly, opening suddenly 
on us with a splendid outburst. Winter lingers, loath to 
go and eager to come again ; but between the going and 
the coming are some most delightful months, — no scorch- 



MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA. 7 

ing heats, no debilitating- nights, but an ever fresh and 
invigorating aii". ' 

Oh, no, it is not always winter in Canada. 

As in speaking of Canada 1 mean only the Province of 
Quebec, and especially that part of it not very far from 
the city of Quebec, so also in speaking of Canadians I 
mean only the French people of that Province ; for there 
the French consider themselves the only true Canadians, 
all others being, as it were, foreigners and, in a sense, 
intruders. When not classed in a mass as Irish, from the 
most numerous of the foreign nationalities, they are men- 
tioned as either Irish, Scotch, English, or otherwise, but 
not as Canadians. On the cars a few days ago a man 
gave the population of his parish as so many " Irlandais" 
and so many Canadians, meaning by " Irlandais " all those 
not French. Americans resident in Canada fall into the 
habit of making the same distinction to some extent. If 
we speak of a person as a Canadian he is at once assumed 
to be French. If he is not French we must designate his 
origin, for among the French people generally to have 
been born in Canada does not make a man a Canadian. 
Some leaders of public feeling among the French encour- 
age this sentiment. So English Canadians very generally 
designate all citizens of the United States as Yankees, 
although the French call them Americains. Not long ago 
an American gentleman, being otTended at the tone in 
which the word Yankee was applied to his countrymen 
by an English Canadian, retaliated by designating the 
French people as Canadians and the others as " Kanucks." 
Though it answered the speaker's purpose there was no 
real sense in the distinction. Along the borders of the 
States, and indeed throughout New England, the word 
" Kanuck " is applied to Canadians generally. 

The Province can and does claim an enormous extent 



8 MV friends, the habitants of CANADA. 

of land yet unexplored. Whether much of it is even 
worth exploring" is not known ; at all events it is not 
wanted or likely to be wanted for ages. It is hardly pos- 
sible that there can be either cultivable land or valuable 
timber on by far the greater part of it. A veteran sur- 
veyor who was sent many years ago to explore for timber 
the country far north of Lake St. John found nothing of 
value and turned back. Possibly that may have been only 
a local condition on account of the region having been 
devastated by fire in some bygone century. A recent ex- 
plorer is said to have found immense forests of spruce, 
but the unauthenticated statements imputed to him are 
not confirmed in his olficial report, and seem to pass the 
limits of probability. 

It is probable that agents and factors of the Hudson's 
Bay Company could give much information about that 
part of Canada if they would ; but the policy of the com- 
pany has always been that of secrecy. Formerly no 
explorer could go far into the company's territories with- 
out help that could only be found at the company's posts. 
If an unfortunate explorer needed help to get out he could 
have it, but if one wanted to go in the other direction he 
would find the obstacles almost insurmountable. Since 
the Dominion Government has acquired jurisdiction over 
that region, however, the difficulty has been somewhat 
lessened, and government explorers at least have been able 
to go wherever they desired. 

The immediate valley of the St. Lawrence, once doubt- 
less forming part of the bed of the river, is very narrow, 
seldom more than one or two miles in width, and broken 
by numerous points and headlands, on some of which are 
now perched picturesque Canadian villages with their 
equally picturesque parish churches. One can easily 
imagine the delight of the first explorers of the river as 



H 




MY FRIENDS, The habitants of CANADA. 9 

they passed these lands, then covered with a luxurious 
growth of elm, ash, and other trees that indicated a won- 
derful fertility of soil. This magnificent verdure hid from 
sight the inhospitable hills that were a short distance away. 
But to the original settler the wood was his enemy, and 
his first eflforts were directed to cutting it down and clear- 
ing it away. As there was no market for it, it could only 
be burned. 

The soil is a rich alluvium, and still yields abundantly. 
Away from these fertile valleys of the St. Lawrence and 
the rivers falling into it the land rises sharply in terraces 
to other levels, with a sandy soil, extending to the base 
of the hills. Most of this land is now cleared and culti- 
vated, the lower levels with fair but the upper levels with 
only very moderate results. 

The main body of improved and cultivated land north 
of the St. Lawrence is that lying between that river and the 
Laurentian hills, which seem to come down to the water's 
edge at Les Eboulements, about one hundred and fifty miles 
below Quebec, and extend nearly west, losing their distinct- 
ive name somewhere about north of Montreal, although in 
fact the range continues to and beyond the head of Lake 
Superior. As the general course of the river is towards 
the northeast, the width of this cultivable strip generally 
increases as one goes west. Near Quebec it does not 
exceed nine miles, and continues about the same for some 
sixty or seventy miles westerly, widening only slowly in 
the main, but with considerable good land along the banks 
of several tributary streams. 

But when once we have reached the base of the Lauren- 
tian hills the areas of good farming land are small and 
scattered. It is only in the neighborhood of Lake St. 
John that there is any considerable amount of it. Just 
how much there is, is not really known and is the subject 



10 MV FRIENDS, The HABITANTS OF CANADA. 

of much dispute. The most extravagant claims are made 
on the one hand, and even moderate estimates disal- 
lowed on the other. This lake is some forty-five miles 
long, with several large rivers flowing into it. All, or 
nearly all, have very swift currents and innumerable falls 
and rapids, so it is safe to assume that the greater part of 
the land is mountainous. Although the farmers of that 
region formerly had no considerable market nearer than 
Quebec, one hundred and eighty miles away, over roads 
only passable in winter, there have been some parishes 
near the lake for many years. The Seigneur de Roberval 
established a settlement there as early as 1650, but per- 
ished in the wilderness. 

In order to let these people get out and to try to get others 
to go in, the Quebec and Lake St. John Railway was built 
a few years ago, and in these respects has been moder- 
ately successful. A good many settlers have gone there, 
and some at least are reported to be doing moderately well. 
The climate, however, is treacherous, and although the 
winters are claimed to be milder than those of Quebec, 
late and early frosts are much to be feared. Still, many 
intelligent and enthusiastic citizens have strong hopes that 
the region will yet come to be an important section of 
the Province. 

On the south side of the St. Lawrence, approaching 
what are known as the " Eastern Townships," the land is 
very much better, level or gently rolling, with soil fertile 
and easily worked. There, buildings have something of 
the appearance of those of a well-to-do New England farm- 
ing community. North of the St. Lawrence also, going 
west from the city of Three Rivers (about ninety miles from 
Quebec), wide, rich, and well cultivated farms, amply pro- 
vided with substantial buildings of every kind, extend far 
away from the river's bank. 




THE REAPER 



MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA. 



11 



These, however, are not the parts of the country I pro- 
pose to write about, which are mainly the rougher and 
less favored regions nearer the city of Quebec. 

From the cabin on the lake already spoken of one 
might follow the line of longitude to the North Pole with- 
out seeing a house unless by accident some post of the 
Hudson's Bay Company, isolated in the wilderness, should 
be stumbled upon. Yet the lake is less than fifteen miles 
from the thickly settled valley of the St. Lawrence, and 
only some thirty miles from Quebec. 

In these sections the average farmer would not be con- 
sidered, in the States, to be a very thriving person. But 
his wants are few and his tastes of the simplest, so that 
he manages to feed his numerous children, pay his dues 
to Church and State, and have a decent suit of clothes for 
Sundays and holidays. He must be very poor indeed if 
he cannot make a respectable appearance at church. It is 
a matter of religion with him. He works less steadily 
and with less intelligence than the New Englander, but 
is twice as well satisfied with what he gets, and prob- 
ably quite as hap- 
py and contented. 
He makes but little 
progress in any di- 
rection, but feels not 
the slightest uneasi- 
ness on that account. 
He has a great deal 
of the bliss that goes 
with ignorance, al- 
though the last two or three decades have seen much 
change in this respect, and he no longer insists that what 
was good enough for the fathers is good enough for him. 

The farmers' principal crops are hay, oats, and potatoes. 




12 



MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA. 




With these are some buckwheat and other articles of 
minor importance, mainly for the family use. Some 
tobacco is everywhere raised for home consumption, but 
almost always of very inferior quality. A few cattle and 
hogs, a little poultry, and a very few sheep are kept. 
Canadian cows are small, but hardy and good milkers. 

Since the gen- 

"^t^'Kr^A- ,.-1 ---1 ^ — -—4^- — eral introduc- 

tion of butter 
and cheese fac- 
tories the prod- 
uct of these ar- 
ticles has great- 
ly increased 
and the qual- 
ity improved, 
so that cattle 
raising is a little more profitable than formerly. Some 
years ago only the dairies of the best English and Scotch 
farmers produced butter of very high grade, but now the 
factories fully equal or surpass them. No strictly first-class 
fat cattle are raised. The best beef on the Quebec market 
mostly comes from the Province of Ontario or from the 
" Eastern Townships," the counties along and near the line 
of Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont. Neither is the 
raising of horses profitable of late years. The race of 
Canadian horses that was famous fifty or seventy-five 
years ago has entirely disappeared, and its equal for speed 
and hardiness has not been found. It seems a pity that a 
breed so entirely suited to the general wants of the com- 
munity should have become extinct. Short legged, heavy 
bodied, and broad chested, with intelligent eyes and wide 
nostrils, they could endure more hard work and hard fare 
than any of the races that have supplanted them. With- 



MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA. 13 

out being extremely swift they were good drivers and 
could take the traveller over as much road as he could 
endure driving over in one day. 

Women and girls help a good deal in field work, but not 
so generally now as formerly. It is not unusual to see a 
horse and an ox harnessed together with a man holding 
the plough and the woman driving.^ I saw a case of this 
kind not long ago, as picturesque to the looker-on as it 
was devoid of encouragement to the workers. The party was 
ploughing on the steep side of a broken gully in a sandy 
soil where there seemed no possible chance of any crop 
that would pay for an hour's labor. Man, woman, horse, 
ox, plough, harness, and land looked equally forlorn. A 
little further on 1 passed a man and boy ploughing, while 
two women and seven children were planting potatoes in 
the furrows. One might think the family could almost eat 
the expected harvest at a meal, so poor was the prospect of 
a crop. In more favorable localities the women work only 
at lighter tasks, making hay, harvesting grain, and the 
like. Women at work in a hay field in the pleasant sum- 
mer weather are always a pretty sight, and they seem to 
enjoy the occupation. In the old times, when all the grain 
was cut with the sickle, there was much hard work for 
women, and the rounded backs and shoulders of many of 
the old farmers' wives still tell of the labors they endured. 
Modern mowing and reaping machines have done much 
for the women here. 

Formerly a good deal of flax was raised, and home- 
spun linen was the rule. Linen is now cheaper to buy 
than to weave, and except by a few families where there 
are many women for whom there is little employment 
flax is not much cultivated. 

The breaking of the flax affords one of the most pict- 
uresque sights to |3e found. It is almost always done in 
3 



14 MY FRIENDS, THE HABITANTS OF CANADA. 

some pretty little nook, where there is plenty of shade, and 
where fire can be made without danger. Heat is necessary 
to separate the fibre from the woody portions of the stalk, 
and as flax is exceedingly inflammable there must be no 
buildings near, it is dusty work, but as there are always 
a number of women at it, and chatting can be kept up 
almost without intermission, they like it. 

Pleasant weather in the month of October adds the 
charm of brilliant autumn foliage and bright sunshine. 

But with all his labor and all his simplicity of life, on 
the unfertile soils near the foot of the Laurentians, the 
habitant cannot always succeed in making both ends meet, 
and many uncultivated fields and deserted dwellings may 
be seen, the owners of which have gone to seek kinder 
fortunes elsewhere. The land yields well when first 
cleared and while the ashes of the burned wood serve to 
fertilize it, but when these are exhausted there is not much 
good in the soil. 

To some men of the younger generations of these hab- 
itants abandoned farms of New England have seemed to 
offer greater temptations than their native country could 
show them. The number of these farmers is not very 
great, but 1 understand that such as have taken such farms 
have almost invariably been successful. Patient and 
frugal, they are content with results that did not satisfy 
the more restless and ambitious Americans. 



r- 
> 
X 

CD 

m 
> 

o 




part nil 
ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH 



ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH 



The stranger in Canadian forests, whetlier in sum- 
mer or winter, will be surprised at the small amount 
of animal life to be seen. In winter he will scarcely 
see a bird unless it be an occasional partridge, now and 
then a raven, and about his camp a few " whiskey jacks " 
or crossbills. But if he roams much in the woods he 
will find plenty of evidence of a life that does not show 
itself openly. Tracks of rabbits, foxes, martens, and squir- 
rels will be found everywhere. Looking carefully along 
by the banks of streams he may find tracks of otter, mink, 
or muskrat. If the stranger is a hunter and has a good 
rifle under his arm, he will be on the lookout for caribou, 
almost the only large game now to be found here in 
winter, for the moose is scarce in this region, and the red 
deer finds the snow too deep for his small feet and keeps 
to places where there is less of it. 

Caribou, however, are reasonably plenty, and the skilled 
hunter need not pass many days during the proper season 
without finding them. If they have not been disturbed 
there will very likely be three or four, and perhaps ten or 
a dozen together. Although timid they are curious. They 
sometimes wander into villages, and have even been found 
in fields, and driven to barns with cattle. Quite recently 
one was seen one evening within a hundred yards of a 
paper mill that was lighted up and running, and another 
stood for some time where a man might have shot him 
from his bedroom window. Such instances are somewhat 
rare, although not extremely so. If the hunter who is for- 



l8 ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 

tunate enough to get on a fresh trail will follow it up care- 
fully, making as little noise as possible, he has a fair 
chance of success. If the snow should be three feet or so 
deep the caribou will not go far without stopping, unless he 
is frightened. If he is, he can get away at a tremendous 
pace, for his feet spread tolerably wide and the under part 
of the hoof is somewhat concaved, causing the snow to 
become solid under it instead of being merely thrust aside, 
so that unless the snow is extremely light and soft his feet 
do not sink deep. The caribou has also a way quite peculiar 
to himself of putting his feet to the ground, by which he 
brings the " dew-claws " or " accessory hoofs," as they are 
sometimes called, to bear, which has the effect of making 
a track twice or three times the size of the hoof alone. 

The caribou seems to have no idea whatever of per- 
sonal comfort. He will lie down to rest in a bed of slush, 
half snow and half icy water, or on a hillock of grass 
scarcely above the water's edge. He has no fixed home, 
but wanders about wherever his fancies lead him, although 
if he happens to hit on good feeding ground he may stay 
for some time in its neighborhood. His senses of hearing 
and smell are very acute. I think, however, that loud 
noises for which his instincts cannot account, confuse him. 
The breaking of a twig may start a whole herd on the 
run, but if a rifle shot kills one of them the others may 
circle about as if uncertain what direction to take. On 
the Quebec & Lake St. John Railway, some years ago, 
some friends of mine saw a herd of five from the car win- 
dows. They stopped the train, got off, and "went for" 
them. 

The caribou has increased rapidly since the enactment 
and partial enforcement of suitable game laws. Thorough 
enforcement would be difficult. The open season is now 
from September first to February first, five months, but 



ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 



19 



in effect these are practically almost reduced to two, for 
there can be no g:reat amount of successful hunting until 
the ground is well covered with snow, usually about the 
1st of December. The caribou shed their horns usually 
in November, and the man who buys a fine panage to 
ornament his dining room has some ground to suspect 
that the animal was killed when he ought not to have 
been. What becomes of all the horns dropped in the 
woods } The writer 
has never found but 
one, and that a small 
one. They are proba- 
bly quickly found and 
eaten by insects and 
small rodents. 

Mr. Caspar Whitney 
in " On Snowshoes to 
the Barren Grounds " 
complains bitterly of 
the absurd ways of his 
Indians in hunting the 
caribou, rushing, shout- 
ing, and tiring guns at 
random instead of quietly stalking them. A gentleman 
who has hunted caribou on the Barren Grounds east of 
Hudson's Bay tells me that this is precisely the method of 
the Indians in that region. They depend on getting them 
confused so that they are uncertain where to gd, and can 
be cut down at will, for the caribou is, in the main, a very 
stupid creature. The trouble with Mr. Whitney was that 
he had not Indians enough. 

As an example of the number of caribou on the edge of 
the Barren Grounds, a factor of the Hudson's Bay Com- 
pany told an acquaintance of mine that he laid in a stock of 




Chasseur. 



20 ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 

nine hundred carcasses for the winter's supply of his post. 
Another man tells me he has seen in Labrador herds of 
three or four hundred. In the swamps of the interior of 
Newfoundland similar herds are often seen. 

The Barren Grounds extend, as doubtless most of my 
readers know, nearly or quite across the Continent, from 
the interior of Labrador on the east to Alaska on the west, 
and from the limit of timber on the south away into the 
Arctic Circle. In the depths of this region of desolation 
Mr. Whitney says no living creature exists in winter 
except the musk-ox. No vegetation .xcept mosses and 
lichens can be found there. Even the caribou merely 
skirts its borders. 

Moose are now seldom seen in this region. Hunting, 
lumbering, settlements, and in some places railroads, have 
either destroyed or driven them away. Not that they are 
extinct by any means, for a few are found every year 
within reach of hunters; but if they are plenty anywhere 
it is in places that the sportsman would find it hard to 
get at. Only the Indian, who makes very little account of 
distances and can exist almost anywhere, and to whom the 
meat is valuable, would find it worth his while to follow 
them to their haunts. For sporting purposes they appear 
to be far more plentiful in Maine and Nova Scotia than 
north of the St. Lawrence. Powerful as they are, they do 
not like too deep snow, and a crust is their abomination, 
for they break through it and cut their legs. The writer 
has never happened to meet one in the woods, although 
in his early experience, thirty or thirty-five years ago, 
he very often came across their tracks and sometimes their 
" yards." These " yards " are more exactly a net- work 
of paths beaten in the deep snow on some good feeding 
ground. There the animals remain, browsing within a 
limited area for days or weeks at a time. They are likely 



ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 21 

also to return to the same neighborhood year after year, 
finding a larger supply of fresh and tender twigs and 
branches than in localities not previously cropped. If the 
hunter finds one of these yards he is tolerably sure of his 
game, for it cannot easily get far away. Whether shoot- 
ing the creatures under such circumstances comes within 
the limits of " sport " is another question. 1 have heard 
that in the times when there was a garrison at Quebec, 
including many English officers who wanted amusement 
and cared nothing for the cost, whenever Indians or others 
in roaming about" the woods found one of these yards 
they would hasten to town and inform their clients, who 
would return with their guides and shoot every moose to 
be found. 

Moose, although scarce, as already stated, seem to be 
slowly increasing in number under the operation of judi- 
cious game laws. 

Fur-bearing animals have been driven away by civiliza- 
tion, but hunters and trappers who will go far enough for 
them still get a good supply. Necessarily, aside from the 
numbers killed, they become more scarce as their habitats 
are encroached upon. It is not merely that they are com- 
pelled to migrate, but the natural balance is disturbed and 
the struggle for life becomes too tierce for them. 

The beaver, once so plentiful that their skins formed 
the principal article of commerce of the country, ship- 
ments of tens of thousands of them being made yearly, 
are now almost as rare as the moose. They are not ex- 
tinct or alarmingly near extinction, but persistent hunting 
for three centuries and the advance of civilization have 
not only reduced their numbers but driven most of the 
remainder into other regions. 1 can still tind new-made 
dams and lately built cabanes, but they are scarce. Hunt- 
ing them in this Province is now forbidden until the year 



22 ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 

1900, which will give them a respite. They will perhaps 
not return to their old homes, but build new ones a few 
miles away, for they are accustomed to migrate to some 
extent. After inhabiting a certain neighborhood for a few 
years they may suddenly desert it for no known reason 
and establish themselves on other water courses, going 
considerable distances over land or even directly over some 
mountain in order to reach them. 

Accounts of the wonderful sagacity of these little crea- 
tures may be found in almost any work on natural history, 
but I have heard of one point that I do not remember 
to have seen noted. Almost any woodsman felling trees 
will occasionally let one fall so that it will lodge on other 
trees and not come to the ground. The beaver never 
does this. When he fells a tree it comes quite down, and 
always falls towards the water. Then with those sharp 
little teeth of his he cuts it up into lengths that he can 
handle and stacks them up for his winter's provision, 
quite near to his cahane. His food is mainly the inner 
bark and part of the sap-wood of birch, alder, mountain 
ash, and some other deciduous trees. Unlike his neigh- 
bor, the otter, he does not eat fish. 

It is a little curious to note that in the history of the 
early trade of the country little or no mention is made of 
any skins except those of the beaver, and this at a time 
when furs were the only export of Canada and when 
other furs now accounted valuable were proportionately 
plentiful. 

A friend has given me a sectional sketch of a beaver's 
cabane and many items of information about their habits, 
some of which, perhaps, may not be generally known. I 
can only give a few of his statements, as many of them 
belong more properly to the realm of the naturalist. His 
information was derived partly from much hunting of the 




CN 
\ 



ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 23 

animals during years of service with the Hudson's Bay 
Company, and in part from Indians, with whom his duties 
brought him into constant intercourse, and whose language 
he speaks with perfect fluency. The Indians have num- 
berless myths and superstitions concerning the beaver, but 
as my friend is a close observer he was able to reject what- 
ever of their histories he did not find in accord with his 
own conclusions. 

The construction of the beaver's hut and his method of 
building dams are very generally understood, but may be 
new to some. Both are built of sticks somewhat inter- 
laced, and plastered and held together with clay. The 
huts, in general size and shape, much resemble an ordinary 
hay-cock. They are built close to the water's edge on 
the banks of lakes whose outlets can be dammed. When 
the water is low the beaver commences his hut, and at the 
same time begins to dam the stream. The hut is com- 
pletely circular except for a space of about eighteen inches 
in width, which he leaves for the purpose of ingress and 
egress. As the hut progresses he raises the height of his 
dam, and when the water is high enough he arches over 
this aperture also, so that the opening is at last entirely 
under water. Then he goes on and completes his house. 
The outside he leaves rough, but if any sticks or bunches 
of clay protrude on the inside, he gnaws them off, leaving 
the inner wall quite smooth. Then he proceeds to build 
inside the hut a table or shelf, occupying the whole space 
except that left for his doorway. This table he makes 
slightly concave, filling up the hollow with chips, not of 
short cuttings but of long strips, much like those thrown 
off by a carpenter's plane. On this the beavers live and 
sleep. The huts are high enough to allow them to sit 
up on their haunches and play and amuse themselves 
together, which they do a great deal. They are great 



24 ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 

chatterers, and act as if they had a speech of their own* 
As the otter will slide down a slippery bank into the water 
and come out and slide again in pure play, precisely like 
a parcel of school boys coasting-, so the beaver disports 
himself by jumping off a bank into the lake, using his 
broad, flat tail to give himself a spring. 

The shelf or table in the hut is from three to five inches 
above the level of the water when the dam is finished, if 
the water afterward rises so that his house is in danger of 
being flooded he goes to the dam and pulls out sticks 
enough to let oflf the surplus. If the water goes down he 
builds his dam higher. 

The beaver does not usually eat in his cabin but goes 
outside for his meals. The inside is always perfectly 
clean and dry. Although he comes in from the water he 
is not wet, for the water runs oflf him as from a duck's 
back. He gives his feet, which may be slightly wet, a 
little shake to throw the water oflf, so that he carries none 
of it to his bed. 

The female usually has two young at a birth, sometimes 
four, and very rarely six, always equally divided as to sex. 
If the hut becomes too small for the family, it is en- 
larged by gnawing away from the inside and building up 
on the outside, always keeping the walls about eighteen 
inches in thickness. A family or a part of the same fam- 
ily may continue to occupy the same hut for successive 
years, although they breed so rapidly that if unmolested 
some must necessarily colonize. My friend does not men- 
tion the fact, but 1 have heard it said that they never 
mate in the same family. If the colonists can find an old 
and partly dilapidated hut they will set themselves to re- 
pairing it rather than build a new one, for which no one 
who observes the amount of labor required can in any 
way blame them. 



ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 



25 



If any one reproaches me for having been led away to 
tell about beavers instead of sticking to " my friends, the 
habitants," 1 can only ask him to be a little indulgent, and 
to try to look on the beavers themselves as habitants, 
predecessors of all the others, and without whom the 
others would not have existed. Perhaps, too, there are 
some people to whom the habits of one class are as inter- 
esting as those of the other. 

The comparative scarcity of birds in the woods is easily 
accounted for. There is but little for them to eat ; few 
nuts, worms or insects, grains or grasses. Nut-bearing 
trees are few, and of insects the only ones that seem to be 
superabundant are black tlies and mosquitoes. Of these 
in their season there seem to be far too many, but per- 
haps if there were less something else would go wrong, 
and we may be better off with them. Doubtless they 
serve some useful purpose, although it would be hard to 
convince the summer fisherman that such was the case. 
Of birds of prey there 
are only owls and 
some hawks. Nearly 
all the birds native to 
the northern states exist 
also in this part of Can- 
ada, but not generally in 
great numbers. Ducks 
breed in suitable locali- 
ties, but migrate early. 
The wild goose is not 
rare. Loons are plenty ; 
being fish eaters they 
do not depend on the 

same conditions as most ^ w.^.v 

pther species. Chasseuse 




26 ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 

Along" the banks of the St. Lawrence a good many 
ducks of various kinds, snipe, plover, and other small shore 
birds, are to be found at the proper season, and are eagerly 
hunted. Partridges abound, and an occasional woodcock 
may be " raised," though they are scarce. 1 know of one 
family of which the young ladies formerly joined their 
brothers in their hunting expeditions and were almost 
equally as successful as they. As these ladies, however, are 
now all married and gone to other quarters of the globe, 
I imagine that strolling photographers are not likely to 
meet them on the shores of the St. Lawrence any more. 

Within a few years the inland fisheries of Canada have 
become important. The building' of the Quebec & Lake 
St, John Railway opened up a region full of lakes and 
streams that teemed with trout. It was known before, 
but was dil^icult of access. The lands and waters belong 
almost entirely to the Provincial Government, which has 
now leased to individuals or clubs fishing privileges on 
nearly all that can be reached without extreme difficulty. 
Of clubs there is a considerable number, the majority com- 
posed of Americans. Some of them control waters within 
very large areas, including twenty, fifty, or one hundred 
lakes, many of which the members of the clubs never have 
seen and probably never will see. Of course not all of them 
are good fishing waters, but enough are good to aflford as 
fine trout tlshing as is known. The whole range of the 
Laurentian hills is full of lakes and streams. In almost 
every stream are trout, sometimes large in proportion to 
its size, but depending also on various other conditions. 
The best trout fishing in the lakes is likely to be in those 
highest up among the hills. Where, as very often happens, 
there is a succession or chain of lakes, it is probable that 
only one or two will alTord good fishing for fontinalis. 
The others may be more or less stocked with " namaycush " 



ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 27 

or lake trout (known under various names in different 
places), but they are rarely fished for sport. I have not 
heard of any fontinalis being taken quite as large as the 
largest from the Rangeleys and some other Maine lakes, 
but fish of three, four, or five pounds are not scarce. 

Those large ones will seldom rise to the fly, except 
during a few days in late May, or early June and a few 
days in the autumn. At other times they must be fished 
for either by trolling or with bait in deep water, a kind of 
fishing that the real sportsman is not likely to care for very 
much. He will ordinarily prefer a two-pound trout taken 
with the fly to one of five or six pounds caught with bait. 
Nor even in fly fishing is the quality of the sport alto- 
gether dependent on the size of the fish, although the fish- 
erman is naturally ambitious to take the largest that is to 
be had. A trout of a pound and a half weight in an eddy 
of some swirling rapid will give the sportsman more satis- 
faction than one of three pounds in quiet waters, or one of 
two pounds in a clear, cool lake more than one of five 
pounds in richer waters where food is plentiful and the 
fish are " logy." Really the nicest trout for the table are 
those weighing about a pound or a little more or less. 

The Quebec & Lake St. John Railway has also opened 
access to the haunts of the ouananiche, considered by those 
who know it well to be second only to the salmon as a 
game fish. It is in fact a smaller salmon, and differs little, 
if at all, from the true salmon (salmo salar) except in size, 
and in the fact that it does not go to the salt water. The 
name is Indian and the termination " iche " means only 
" little," so that " little salmon " is the translation of the 
word ouananiche. The numerous rivers flowing into Lake 
St. John are well stocked with them, and its outlets, the 
Grande and Petite Decharges, which join to make that 
wonderful river, the Saguenay, afford some of the finest 



28 AN1A\AL LIFE AND FISH. 

fishing on the Continent. These fish love the wildest 
rapids, and no waters seem too swift or broken for them. 
Their strength and gaminess are wonderful. The novice 
will in all probability lose many tish and much tackle 
before he learns their ways. They were formerly thought 
to be indigenous only to the waters of Grand Lake, on 
the borders of Maine and New Brunswick, and to Lake St. 
John and its tributaries, but it is now known that some of 
the rivers of Labrador are teeming with them. 

The salmon fisheries of the streams flowing into the St. 
Lawrence are too well known to need special reference. 
They are all under lease, largely to Americans. The rentals 
range all the way from twenty -five dollars to six thou- 
sand dollars per annum. 

The fisheries of the lower St. Lawrence are varied and 
valuable. Those of the upper St. Lawrence, above Que- 
bec and below Montreal, are of small individual but con- 
siderable aggregate importance to the local consumers. 
The fish are mostly taken in nets or traps. . The only 
kinds that give the people any amusement in the catch- 
ing are the smelt and the " tommy cod." The former do 
not go much above Quebec, where they are caught with 
rod and bait, as in thousands of other places. But the 
" tommy cod," the petite morue of the French people, 
goes up to the head of tide-water, some ninety miles above 
Quebec, to spawn, about Christmas, and continues about 
three weeks — not longer. They are caught in different 
ways, sometimes with traps and scoop nets, but more gen- 
erally with hand lines through holes cut in the ice, from 
little cabins set just along the line of rocks that borde^ 
the channel on the north side. They do not frequent the 
south side any more than do the shad (of which a few are 
taken in their season) cross to the north. Nor do they 
wander far onto the flats or out into the strong current. 
When the tide runs strong they disappear. One may sit 



ANIMAL LIFE AND FISH. 29 

and bob for hours without a bite, but at about high or low- 
water they take hold well. The night tides are best, and 
not seldom a couple of men or boys may take four, five 
or six hundred in a night. They usually are sold frozen, 
at about fifty cents the bushel. A bushel would be prob- 
ably about 250 fish. They are fairly good eating and go 
far to help the villagers through Lent. 

By about the fifth of January they first begin to go 
down the river again, ravenously hungry, but so thin and 
poor as to be almost uneatable. The value of the season's 
catch at one village not more important than several others 
along the river, was not long ago estimated at ^2,000. 



IPart Him 
OCCUPATIONS 



OCCUPATIONS 



The principal winter industry of the men in this region, 
except those who have farms important enough to demand 
their whole attention, and except those occupied in ordi- 
nary mechanical work, such as shoe makers, carriage mak- 
ers and the like, is lumbering. The larger farmers them- 
selves have no small amount of work to do in the woods, 
for the firewood for the year in a climate like that of 
Canada is a heavy item, and it is also they who are 
called on to supply all the material for building and mis- 
cellaneous purposes, except that produced by mill owners. 
This is produced in the larger mills in only a limited num- 
ber of shapes, for the logs cut for the purpose of com- 
merce are intended to be made chiefly into deals for the 
English market. The standard dimensions of a deal are 12 
feet long, 9 inches wide and 3 inches thick. Other di- 
mensions are made in order that no timber may be wasted, 
but the chief effort of the saw mill owner is to produce 
deals, either 12 or 14 feet long. Only that which cannot 
be made into deals is sawn into boards, to be sold in 
American markets. I refer now mainly to the region 
referred to above. In some other sections other ends are 
aimed at, but of those 1 do not now speak. 

The larger farmers being occupied with routine and 
occasional business, the smaller ones, some unemployed 
mechanics, and many day laborers, whose ordinary occu- 
pations are suspended during the winter, go into the woods 
when the lumbering season comes round. 

Lumbering- works are not now generally conducted as 



34 OCCUPATIONS. 

they were in former times, and as they are still in other 
parts of the country. Where timber is plenty, large camps, 
accommodating 30, 40 or 50 men, are built ; but where it 
is scattering the logs are made by jobbers, who cut and 
draw them to the water's edge at an agreed price per 
hundred. 

The jobbers are usually two or three neighbors, or 
sometimes a man with one or two sons, who work to- 
gether and divide their earnings. The plan suits both em- 
ployer and employe. The former is rid of a good deal of 
care and superintendence and the latter is independent of 
any foreman. He can work when he pleases, and if it suits 
him to leave the woods and go home he is at liberty to do 
so, and generally does. The amount of time lost in this 
way is very great. The jobber is pretty sure to go home 
for the holidays and he starts a day or two before Christ- 
mas, so as to be sure. New Years Day is a more import- 
ant fete even than Christmas, and the Jour des l^ois 
(Epiphany) comes so soon after that he thinks it not 
worth while to go back until it is over. Then it takes 
him one or two days more to get ready, so that very often 
he will use up three full weeks out of the best of the sea- 
son. He has promised to make a certain number of logs 
during the winter and perhaps will do it, but if he does not 
he is not likely to be sued for damages, and is not much 
concerned. He can make the logs cheaper than the em- 
ployer could do it by hiring men, for he can support him- 
self alone for less than it would cost to feed him in a large 
camp. He would grumble fearfully if he were fed no 
better than he feeds himself. 

For a large number of men the employer would be 
obliged to build a camp with separate stables for the 
horses, which might cost him two or three hundred dollars, 
whereas the jobbers pan put up a camp in a couple of days 



OCCUPATIONS. 



35 




Losjgers' Camp. 



that will accommodate both them and their horses as 
well. They all live together, perhaps with a dog; and a 
variety of insects. 
A jobber's camp is 
not always a pleas- 
ant place to sleep in 
for the stranger 
whose prejudices 
are infavor of clean- 
liness. The fare is 
simple and cheap, 
consisting mainly of 
bread, pork and pea 
soup. The soup ket- 
tle is always on the 
fire, never exhausted — and never washed. Pork, peas and 
water are put into it as required, and the soup goes on 
continuously until the winter's work is done. Once in a 
while a man will have a pot of tea, and if the jobber is a 
farmer he may perhaps bring some potatoes to the camp, 
but such luxuries are not usual. 

The men get out to their work early and work as long 
as they can see, but in the short winter days this is not 
too long, and the work does not usually demand long con- 
tinued strenuous exertions, so the men are likely to come 
out of the woods in the spring fat and hearty, while the 
poor horses look thin and discouraged. It is the horses 
who have the hardest time, for although the main road 
from where the logs are made is usually kept in excellent 
order, and almost always either level or down-hill, yet all 
that is done for the numerous branch roads is to make it 
possible to get over them. If a horse can go he must go, 
and that is all there is about it. To reach the logs he may 
have to flounder through snow nearly to his belly, up hills 



36 



OCCUPATIONS. 



and over rocks, but the logs must come out and he must get 
to them, though it strains every muscle. And if it is hard 
to get up the hills with the empty log-sled it is not easier 
to get down with a load, for the way is steep and crooked 
in places, and he sometimes has to hold back hard, and 
gets sadly knocked about. A very simple and admirably 
effective way of arranging the shafts of the sled, however, 
reduces his trials immensely and he soon learns how to 
handle himself. 










Loggers' Sled. 






The drawing of logs in this country is all done by single 
horses and the powerful ox teams used in other regions 
are never seen here. A habitant jobber may occasionally 
have an ox, but he is always harnessed like a horse and 
driven with reins. The oxen are so small and slow that 
it seems impossible for them to accomplish much, but it 
costs less to keep them, they are less liable to accidents 
and diseases than horses, and if anything happens to them 
they may be killed and eaten, which is no small consider- 
ation to the poor habitant. 

The net earnings of the jobber probably amount to less 



OCCUPATIONS. 37 

than he might have had in a large camp, where he would 
be hired by the month, fed, and furnished with tools, etc., 
but he has the satisfaction of not working so hard and of 
being, in the main, his own master. He can always make 
use of his horses, and of his boys if he has any of suitable 
age, to drive them. 

The wanderer in the woods will often hear the loud 
shout of ''viens done," '' marche done," or '^arrete 
done," with the last syllable long drawn out, as the first 
evidence that he is near a lumberman's road. A Canadian 
in the woods could not drive without yelling at the top of 
his voice ; but the horse soon learns to pay very little at- 
tention to the cries. 

1 have been very much amused on some of my jour- 
neys at a certain old veteran beast of the shanties which, 
when the ground is bare, draws my luggage over a cer- 
tain piece of wood on a sled with wooden runners. The 
load is never heavy, but there are many mud -holes and 
rocky places. When the road suits the old horse he will 
go in it, but when he tlnds what seems to him a better 
place to pass he will take to that, and not all the ear- 
splitting yells of his driver, who is generally walking along 
some distance in the rear, can stop him. He will drag 
his load over rocks or fallen trees at any conceivable 
angle, but if it actually upsets, or the sled strikes against 
a root or a stump, he wastes no strength in useless exer- 
tions but quietly stops and crops the twigs within his reach 
until his driver comes up. Then when a lift or a push 
releases him, he responds to a mildly spoken "^-/-o-c" 
and goes on. Cries of " arrete done," with a dozen dif- 
ferent inflections, in a voice that could easily be heard 
half a mile, make no impression on him, but the quiet 
order is obeyed. 

The boys get into the woods at an early age. Where 



38 OCCUPATIONS. 

the hauling- is not difficult, a boy of fourteen or fifteen 
years can be made very useful. The jobber's work is t7n- 
ished when he gets the logs to the water's edge. He has 
nothing to do with the " drive," though he may be em- 
ployed on it, but that is altogether another story. 

Driving logs has been described scores of times. The 
work is often exciting, sometimes dangerous, and always 
attended with hardships. It must be carried on in all 
weathers, sleep and food must be taken when they can be 
had, and wet clothing is the rule. Only the young and 
vigorous are fit for it. 

The writer recently had an opportunity to witness part 
of a drive, that while on a very small scale, showed thor- 
oughly characteristic features. 

My duties required me to go into the woods and among 
the loggers' camps. Tired of sharing the scanty quarters 
of the jobbers, where sometimes a bench, a table or a pile 
of wood was the only available bed, or even of claiming 
the hospitality of the larger camps, 1 had built for myself 
a comfortable cabin at a convenient point for all my jour- 
neys, and on the border of one of the most charming of 
all Canadian lakes. Not that 1 was ever unkindly received 
in the camps, and many a time has a jobber slept on the 
floor or a foreman shared the bunks of his men in order 
to give me the best accommodation possible. 

The outlet of this lake falls something over four hun- 
dred feet in half a mile, and is wild, rocky and picturesque, 
as may well be imagined. 

Much money and labor and a dam at the head of the 
discharge had made it available for driving logs, of which 
about 7,000 were ready at this time to be sent down. As 
they were lying quietly in the lake, I remarked to the 
friend with me how nice and clean and handsome they 
looked, to which my woodranger, who was with us, ans- 



OCCUPATIONS. 39 

wered, " Il-y-en a qui vont se cogiier la tcte bieii vite." 
It was only saying that some of them were going to get 
their heads bumped very soon, but somehow the expres- 
sion seemed to sound much more picturesque in French 
than in English. 

The dam was opened and we ran along the bank, 
watching the logs go down. They were tossed from one 
side of the stream to the other, knocking against rocks, 
rolled over a thousand times, and once in a while turned 
quite end over end. The thundering of their striking the 
rocks and of the rushing water was so great that we could 
hardly hear each other's voices. In ten minutes from the 
time we had seen them lying peaceably at the outlet of the 
lake some of them began to collect in a pool below, their 
ends all battered and splintered, the bark rubbed off or 
torn and hanging in long strips. 

A " jam " occurred just when we were in a capital 
position to see it and we looked on and applauded the 
skill and daring with which the men broke it up. When 
the one log that formed the key to the whole was removed 
and the great pile melted away as it were in a few seconds, 
we could not resist the inclination to shake the hand of 
the foreman of the gang of drivers and congratulate him 
on a difficult and dangerous work well done. We liked 
him for the care he took that if a man was compelled to 
go to a place of special danger, every precaution should 
be taken for his escape or rescue. 

The lake of which 1 have spoken is separated by a strip 
of land about 150 yards wide from another lake which 
lies some 250 feet below it. Before it was found possible 
to make the outlet of our lake available for driving logs it 
was customary to send the logs made around that lake 
into the other by means of a " slide," which was simply 
two parallel lines of timber laid not quite so far apart as 



40 OCCUPATIONS. 

the diameter of a \og. The logs were sent down endwise, 
and of course the velocity was tremendous, the slide being 
laid at an angle of about 3 5 ''. The story is that although 
the water at the foot of the slide was over 200 feet deep 
the logs falling into it went quite to the bottom and came 
up bringing sand and pebbles with them. Also, that if a 
log going down struck on another log already in the water 
it would break it sharp in two. 

This was mainly correct enough except as to the depth 
of water, which can hardly be more than 50 or 60 feet at 
that point. Also, one log dropping from such a height on- 
to another would almost certainly splinter it, but it would 
require a most extraordinary concatenation of circum- 
stances to break one quite in two. But the best part of 
the story was that if a small log coming down endwise 
struck quite squarely on a large one floating below it 
would go through it clean " just like a cannon ball." 

The cliflf down which the slide was laid extends for 
about three miles on one side of a river and lake and is 
considered by many to be finer than the palisades of the 
Hudson. Its average height is not far from 250 feet, and 
except in two or three places where there are breaks it is 
almost or quite perpendicular. The opposite bank, only 
200 or 300 yards away, is low and rises only gently for a 
long distance back. It must have been a wonderful con- 
vulsion of nature that resulted in such a formation. 

Looking up at the cliflf from below one is surprised to 
see how little soil is necessary to the growth of a tree. 
From very trifling crevices in the rock, where only a mere 
handful of earth could be lodged, we find trees and large 
bushes springing. Their roots find a way into the cracks 
somehow and hold on most wonderfully. I know espe- 
cially of one considerable cedar that appears to have 
crawled out of a hole where there is no sign of earth. 



OCCUPATIONS. 4i 

Indeed, it is wonderful that the masses of stone that com- 
pose these Laurentian hills can support such a dense forest 
as they do. There is scarcely any earth at all visible; 
nothing but rocks covered with decayed leaves and rotten 
wood. It will all burn like tinder when once the fire gets 
into it. That is why the forest fires are so terribly de- 
structive in this country. I once left a camp fire not 
thoroughly extinguished, and when 1 came back to the 
place after two or three days smoke and steam were coming 
out of the ground several feet away in every direction, and 
a great rocky cavity was where my fire had been. Rain 
had moistened the surface and extinguished any blaze, but 
the fire was working underneath and might have broken 
out again after days or even weeks, devastating many 
miles of timber land. Very many fires are caused in this 
way, through the carelessness of hunters and fishermen. 
1 have not been blameworthy in that respect since that 
time. 

Lumber merchants claim that many times more timber 
is destroyed by fire than by the axe. We are constantly 
meeting with the evidences of fires, some recent and some 
of many years ago. A friend once told me that away up 
beyond Lake St. John he had found what he thought 
were signs of three distinct fires that had passed over the 
same land at long intervals. The tires may have been 
caused by savages, who once roamed in those dreary and 
inhospitable regions in large numbers, though my friend 
thought not. 



Ipart 1FD 

AMUSEMENTS 
CONTES AND RACONTEURS 



AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND 
RACONTEURS 



For amusement in winter there is endless visiting of 
course, with chatter accordingly. Three or four Canadian 
women together can keep up a clatter that would put a 
shopful of sewing machines to the blush. Since social 
dancing has been disapproved the principal amusements 
are talking, singing and card playing. Sometimes when 
a lot of young people get together simple games are in- 
dulged in. " Kissing games " are of course tabooed ; but 
other games involving forfeits, such as are known almost 
everywhere under various names, are played. These may 
be boisterous but are almost never rude. 

Athletic sports are almost unknown in the country 
parishes. The young men seem to think they can get all 
the exercise they need in their ordinary occupations. 
Such games as foot ball, base ball, cricket, hockey, la- 
crosse, tennis and the like are never seen, and even skating 
and sliding are almost entirely confined to the small boys. 

For amusement for the men in the woods there is not 
much. In jobbers' camps there is almost none at all ex- 
cept when some stranger or visitor happens to come in. 
The jobbers get their suppers, smoke their pipes and go 
to bed. They are up again at four or half past four in 
the morning to feed their horses, breakfast, and be at 
their work as soon as it is light enough to see. 

In the large camps where many men are together some 
of them will want to do something to pass away the time. 
5 



46 AMUSEMENTS — CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 

A few will play cards, some may play draughts, and there 
will surely be some who sing. Very likely there will be 
a fiddler in the party and some may dance jigs. These 
amusements, however, are mostly kept for Sunday after- 
noons and evenings. Sunday mornings are devoted to 
loafing and chat. Perhaps the foreman may wash and 
shave, but the men do not often give themselves that 
trouble. 

When the usual hour for church service arrives all will 
be quiet; and during the time that the mass is being cele- 
brated in the churches the men will kneel and repeat their 
prayers. Sometimes there will be a leader and the others 
will only give responses, and sometimes each will say his 
prayers for himself. Some will g'et through a little sooner 
than the others, but until the last man is done there is no 
disturbance. For the rest of the day the men are at lib- 
erty to amuse themselves as they like. As a fact they do 
little except sleep or go hunting or fishing, and only a few 
have guns or lines. They must also get their own suppers 
for Sunday afternoon is the cook's holiday and he is not 
obliged to cook for them. 

After supper is the time for general amusements, — sing- 
ing, dancing, card playing, or whatever is allowable. But 
the greatest entertainer of all is the " raconteur" or story- 
teller. 

I should never be able to tell of contes and raconteurs 
without referring at once to our faithful ranger Nazaire, 
as we call him, in his early and middle life a prince among 
story-tellers. And if 1 begin to speak of him 1 shall be 
liable to bring in also my own experience with him, for 
we have been in the woods together for 'many a year, 
through sunshine and storm, pleasure and hardship. As 
much the entertaining companion and devoted friend as 
the honored and trusted employe', he has been my guide 
and associate in numberless wanderings. 





,.^-(;-^'^ 



-'«t) 



Nazaire 



AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 47 

Having him with me 1 was sure of a welcome in any 
camp, for if the men cared nothing for me they all knew 
and Hked Nazaire and were sure of an evening's enter- 
tainment. Many a conte have 1 heard from him that I 
sincerely wish 1 could write down. 1 remember distinctly 
only two, and one of those 1 have never been able to 
translate in such a manner as to give any idea whatever 
of the spirit of the story. 1 shall give it in French and 
whoever likes to try his hand at it is welcome to do so. 

Nazaire's soirees in camp usually began with about half 
an hour's talk about woods, logs, the depth of the snow, 
what this man, that, and the other was doing, and similar 
matters of general interest. Then someone who knew 
how to lead the good man on would probably tell some 
improbable or impossible story. Nazaire had one to give 
back at the shortest notice. I remember one occasion 
(which will serve as a sample of many others) when he 
told the following along with many other similar stories, 
but i cannot hope or attempt to give any idea of the spirit 
and variety of his narration : 

There was once a very famous hunter named Dalbec, who lived in 
the village of Ste. Anne. He had been hunting all day and was re- 
turning home when he came to a little round lake, on the opposite 
side of which he saw a fox. Just as he raised his gun to fire six 
ducks came sailing from under the bushes nearer to him. He hesi- 
tated at which to shoot, and decided to try his chances at both. 
Placing the barrel of his long gun between two trees, he bent it into 
a quarter of a circle, fired at the ducks, killed them all, killed the fox 
also, and the bullet came back and broke the leg of his dog that was 
standing by him. 

Someone else then told a story of seeing from a barn 
window two bears standing on their hind legs and wrest- 
ling like two men. This anecdote he declared was abso- 
lutely true. 

This reminded Nazaire of another story about Dalbec : 



48 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 

Dalbec was in the woods making; maple sugar, when he saw a bear 
coming round as if bent on mischief. Having no gun Dalbec crawled 
under an empty hogshead (such as are often used to hold the sap as 
it is collected). The bear came smelling up, trying to find a way to 
get in. At the right moment Dalbec reached his hand through the 
bung-hole and seized him by the tail. The bear started off on a 
run down the hill, dragging the hogshead after him with Dalbec in- 
side of it. They came to a lot of fallen timber, where the hogshead 
stuck, but Dalbec held on till the tail came out and the bear escaped. 

The fact that the bear has no tail of which a person 
could take hold does not affect the truth of this story. 

What on this special occasion interested me more than 
the stories themselves, was Nazaire's account of how Dal- 
bec, who was a real personage and a great hunter, and an- 
other hunter, equally celebrated and his special rival, 
would get a crowd of people about them on Sundays 
after vespers were over and tell their wonderful yarns 
with perfect sobriety, neither of them questioning a word 
of anything that the other might say, but occasionally 
putting in a word of assent, such as " c'etait Men fait" 
(that was well done) or " c'est hien vrai " (that is quite 
true), and then going on to tell something still more sur- 
prising himself. 

Such a picture can readily be imagined by those famil- 
iar with the scenes abotit the church doors on a pleasant 
Sunday after the services of the day are finished. The 
rest of the day is given up to social entertainments of a 
quiet character and to moderate recreations — music, card- 
playing, and the like. 

Dancing on Sundays was never allowed in Canada, nor 
are loud and boisterous assemblies permitted. Political 
meetings, however, are usually held on Sundays. Trot- 
ting horses is not particularly objected to, nor is driving 
about on any business errand ; but all labor is generally 
suspended quite as much as in any New England village. 



AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 49 

1 was very much amused not very long ago when I was 
speaking of this story of Dallec to some people at a 
place where we were calling. One of the women about 
the house overheard it and remarked, " That story about 
Dalbec is not true. I knew those Dalbecs and 1 should 
have heard of it." She thought the stories had been told 
as facts. 

On the occasion 1 have mentioned our surveyor was not 
to be outdone by any story-teller, and told with a solem- 
nity worthy of Dalbec himself an incident that he said 
happened to himself : 

He was walking in the woods, he said, on a narrow 
path, when he met a bear face to face. Every one knows 
how quickly a bear can turn around. The bear rose on 
his hind feet just at the instant the surveyor tired at him, 
and so quickly did he turn that the course of the ball go- 
ing through his body was changed and it came out and 
struck the surveyor on the shin. 

Then came another story about Dalbec : 

He had been ploughing one day and at night just as he was going 
to put his iiorse in the barn he heard a tlocic of wild geese in the air 
over his head. He went into the house and got his gun, but it was 
so dark he could see nothing. Still hearing the noise he fired in the 
direction from which it came. As no birds fell he concluded he had 
missed them, so he went into the house, ate his supper and went to 
bed. In the morning he was going for his horse again when just as 
he was stepping out of doors a goose fell at his feet. It was one of 
those he had shot at and it had been so high up it had been all night 
in falling. 

And still another : 

It was the morning of the " Tonssaint " (All Saints' Day) that Dal- 
bec had gone out early, shooting. He had expended all his ammu- 
nition and was returning home when he saw a flock of wild ducks 
swimming about among the timbers of a raft that had gone ashore 
at the mouth of the river. The water was cold, but Dalbec went 
into it up to his neck and waded round until he could reach under 



^0 AMUSEMENTS — CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 

the logs and get hold of the legs of a duck. When he caught one he 
pulled it quickly under the water and fastened it to his belt. In this 
way he secured about a dozen. All of a sudden he felt a commo- 
tion, and before he knew what was happening he found himself 
raised into the air and carried off. A strong northeasterly gale was 
blowing and away he went up the St. Lawrence. Just as he passed 
the church at St. Anne he heard the first bell of the mass sound, and 
he wished he had stayed at home instead of going shooting. At the 
rate at which he was going he had not much time to think; but 
presently he realized that something had got to be done. He reached 
down and twisted the neck of one of the ducks. That let him down 
a little and he twisted another. So he kept on until, when he had 
done with them all, he found himself dropped on the ground in 
front of the church at Sorel, and heard the second bell of the mass. 
He had been carried seventy-five miles up the river in just half an 
hour. 

After a round of stories like tliese there would be a call 
for a " conte,'' started by one and echoed by all the rest. 
The men would gather round, forming groups that I have 
many times vainly wished and quite as vainly tried to 
sketch, and after a proper show of reluctance and the cor- 
responding amount of persuasion, Nazaire would begin 
with the '' Tiens-bon-ld," following it up with " L'bistoire 
de mon petit difunt frere Lotiiion." 

A good story-teller like Nazaire is always a welcome 
visitor at a lumberman's camp. As few of the men can 
read they are glad of someone who can entertain them. 
They talk incessantly, but the range of conversation is 
limited, and they no doubt get tired of hearing each 
other's personal achievements and adventures, which are 
their principal subjects. 

I have heard a good raconteur go on two hours with 
one of his stories, and there are some stories that occupy 
two evenings in the telling. They are mostly fairy stories 
in which there is almost always a '' jeuiie prince" and a 
"jeiine princesse" Where they come from in general 



52 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 

I do not know, but a few are from the " Thousand and 
One Nights." A great many probably have never been 
printed, but handed down in traditions. Some, such as 
the flight of Dalbec, seem like localized versions of old, 
widely distributed tales. 

1 will try to give from my recollection a rude transla- 
tion of " The Tiens-bon-la " as a specimen : 

There was once a cure who was in love with a baker's wife. He 
tried in various ways to g:et rid of the baker, but without success. 

They lived in the capital of the kingdom, where the king resided. 
Now in front of the king's palace was a great lake of more than 
twelve thousand acres. One morning the cure went to the palace 
and knocked at the door. When the king came out he said to him, 
" Sire, mon Roi, there is a man in the city who boasts that in less 
than twice twenty-four hours he can change this lake into a beautiful 
meadow, covered with grass that would give hay enough for all your 
majesty's horses, and would be for the great advantage of the 
crown." Then the king said " Who is this man .? " The cure' ans- 
wered, " He is no less than the baker who furnishes your majesty 
with bread," so the king said " I will send for him." 

The cure went away and the king sent a letter to the baker saying 
that he wanted to see him. The baker thought he was to get his 
pay for the bread he had provided for the king and all his servants 
and soldiers. So he was very glad and went quickly to the palace 
and knocked at the door. When the king came out he asked what 
was wanted of him. The king answered that he had heard that he 
had boasted that in less than twice twenty-four hours he could 
change all that lake into a beautiful meadow, covered with grass and 
clover that would feed all the king's horses, and would be a great 
advantage to the crown. Now, unless within twice twenty-four 
hours the lake was changed into a meadow the baker should be hung 
before the door of the palace. 

Then the king turned away and the baker went out discouraged 
for he did not know what to do. He walked otT into the woods 
and sat down on a log to weep. After a long time an old woman 
came and asked what was the matter. He said he was very miser- 
able for he was going to be hanged in twice twenty -four hours. The 
king had commanded him to change all that lake into a meadow, 
covered with grass and clover, and he was not able to do it. Now 



AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 53 

tliis old woman was a fairy [Il-r-avait dc^ Firs dcvis cc temps la) and 
when he had done speaking she told him not to be troubled but to go 
to sleep. So he went to sleep, and when he had slept an hour he was 
awakened by the smell of hay, and when he looked about him he 
saw that the lake was all gone and that there was only a river that 
ran through the middle of a beautiful meadow. Then the fairy told 
him to go to the king and show him what he had done. He went to 
the palace and when he came near he saw the king looking out of 
the window at the meadow, and all the men and horses at work 
making hay. He knocked at the door, and when the king came 
down stairs he asked him if he was satisfied. The king said he was 
not satisfied, because the river had been left running through the 
middle of the meadow. The baker told the king that the river had 
been left for the convenience of the animals and to help in making 
hay, because there was so much of it that all the horses in the king- 
dom could not draw it, and it would have to be brought in boats. 
Then the king was satisfied, and sent the baker away. 

Soon the cure came again and the king showed him the meadow 
and the men and women and horses making hay. The cure' was 
much surprised to see all this, but he did not say so, and went on to 
tell the king that he had no doubt the baker could do a great deal 
more than that, for he had boasted that he could make a " tiens-bon- 
la '■ for the king that would be worth a great deal more than the 
meadow and would be a great advantage to the crown. " Wiiat is a 
' tiens-bon-I;\ ? ' " asked the king. '• 1 do not know," answered the 
priest ; " but the baker said he could make one." " 1 will send for 
him," said the king. So he wrote to the baker, who was just mak- 
ing his bread. When he had put it into the oven he went to the 
palace and knocked again and the king came to the door. The king 
said "I have heard that you boasted that you can make a 'tiens-bon- 
li' that would be worth more than the meadow, and a great advan- 
tage to the crown. Now you shall go home and make it, and unless 
you bring it to me in twice twenty-four hours you shall be hanged 
before the palace gate." The baker asked "What is a' tiens-bon-la ?' " 
The king replied that he did not know, but that he must have one 
within twice twenty-four hours. Then he went into his palace 
again. The poor baker went away more disconsolate than before. 
He had no idea what a " tiens-bon-la" was; but yet he would be 
hanged unless he made one within twice twenty-four hours. He went 
out into the forest again and sat down on the same log that he sat on 



54 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 

before. He cried as hard us lie could. When he had cried himself to 
sleep the fairy came again and waked him up and asked him what was 
the matter. He told her that he should certainly be hanged this time 
for he had been ordered to make a " tiens-bon-la'' for the king and he 
did not know what it was. Then the fairy said, " It is only that 
wicked priest who is in love with your wife and wants to get rid of 
you. You must do what I tell you and the priest shall be punished, 
and we will make a " tiens-bon-iJl " that will satisfy the king. Go 
to your house and tell your wife that you are commanded to make 
a " tiens-bon-h\ " for the king and you have nothing to make it of. 
So you must tell her that you must go away for two days to buy 
some iron, leather, wood and cloth to make it of. Tell her to put 
two days' provisions in a bag for you, and when she has them all 
ready you will go to your room and take the latch ofi" the window. 
Then you will say good-bye to yoifr wife and walk about the city 
until it is dark. As soon as you are gone your wife will send for 
the cure' and invite him to supper. After it is dark you will come 
back to your house and get in at the window and hide yourself 
under the bed. Now a priest will not eat without first washing his 
hands. When he comes your wife will send him into the room to 
wash, and when he takes hold of the wash-basin ynu will cry out 
"tiens-bon-la." Take this wand that I will give you and wave it 
over anything and when you cry '• tiens-bon-h\ " it will hold fast 
whatever it touches." 

The baker did as the fairy had told him, and his wife was very 
glad to learn that he was going away ; and she packed up a large bag 
of provisions and sent him off. 

When he was gone she sent a note to the cuitf and told him Ihat 
her husband was gone away for two days and she would like to 
have him come to supper. The baker walked around the city until 
it was dark, and then came back and hid himself under the bed. 
His wife told the servant to set the table and prepare a nice supper, 
and then she went to get ready to receive the priest. But the priest 
came before she was ready, and she had to make excuses to 
him and say " Oh M. le Cure, I did not expect you so soon. I am 
not dressed for supper." So she showed him into another room 
and said she would be ready almost as soon as he had washed his 
hands. There was some water that was not very clean in the wash- 
basin and when the priest took hold of the basin to throw the water 
out the baker, who was under the bed, cried ont " tiens-bon-h\," and 



AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 55 

the priest's Iiands stuck to the Ixisin so that lie could not let jjo. He 
called out to the servant to come and help him, but she was busy 
about the supper and did not hear him. So then he cried out as 
loud as he could, "Madame, Madame ! " When the baker's wife 
heard him she was dreadfully frightened and ran in, half dressed as 
she was, to see what was the matter. When she found tiie curt? 
stuck to the wash-stand, which was very large and heavy, she took 
hold of him with both hands to pull him away. Then her luisband 
cried out from under the bed " tiens-bon-l^," and the wife could not 
let go of the priest. Then the baker went out and called some of 
his friends and they ate the supper and drank the wine that had been 
prepared for the cur^, who was stuck to the wash-stand, and the 
wife, who could not let go of the priest. 

When morning came the baker took the wand that the fairy had 
given him and told his wife and the priest that if they wanted to get 
loose they must do as he told them. He made them gt) out into the 
street and started them towards the king's palace. 

As soon as they all came out into the light the baker saw that 
there was a hole in his wife's petticoat, so he pulled some grass and 
twisted it into a wisp and filled up the hole. Presently they came to 
a cow that was feeding by the side of the road. There was not 
much grass there and the cow was hungry, so when she saw the 
wisp of grass she started to eat it; but the baker waved his wand 
and cried " tiens-bon-l;\ '' and the cow's teeth stuck in the grass. 
They all went along till they came to a held where there was a bull. 
When the bull saw the cow he jumped over the fence to see where 
she was going. The cow gave him a switch with her tail across his 
eyes, the baker cried " tiens-bon-li\," and the bull went along with 
the rest. When the old woman who owned the cow saw her going 
off in this manner she was very angry and ran out with the wooden 
shovel that she was using to put bread into the oven with to beat 
the bull and drive him away ; but the baker cried out " tiens-bon-lil " 
again and so the shovel stuck to the bull's rump and the old woman 
could not let go of the shovel. The farmer to whom the bull be- 
longed was quite lame, and limped along with a stick. He could not 
go very fast, but he went as well as he could to see what the old 
woman was beating his bull for. When he came up he took hold of 
the woman's dress to pull her away, but the baker cried out again 
and the lame farmer had to go with the others. 

So they all went to the king's palace, — the cure with the wash- 



56 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 

b;isiii, tlie woniun lioldiiis^' on to the ourtf, tlie cow Irving' to e;it ttie 
wisp of liiiy. the bull ;uid the oW\ woman with her shovel, and the 
lame farmer with his stici<. The baker icnocked at the door, and 
when tlie king- opened it he said " 0, my king;, you commanded a 
' tiens-bon-i-^ ' and 1 have brought you one, the best that was ever 
made. If your majesty will be pleased to try it 1 hope your majesty 
will be content." The king' took hold of the basin to take it away 
from the priest, the baker cried " tiens-bon-h\ " again, and the king 
was held as fast as the others. He tried hard to get away but the 
" tiens-bon-l;\ " was good and would not let go. 

Then the king asked the baker what he should give to be let oft". 
After a long time the baker said he W(.>uld let him go if the king 
would give him forty thousand pounds a year to himself and each 
of his fifteen children. The king consented, but the baker said he 
must have a deed made by a notary. So lhe\' sent for the notary 
and the deed was made, and the king signed it on the wash-basin. 
The baker waved his wand backwards, the " tiens-bon-l:\ " was 
broken and they all went aw.iy. 

To me, one of the charnis of Nazaire's story-telling" is 
the way in which he mixes up the modern with the myth- 
ical, the possible with the absurd. In this he excels any 
story-teller 1 have ever heard. Thackery himself was 
hardly more delightful in this respect, in the apparent un- 
consciousness of any inconsistency. 

For instance, in one of Nazaire's stories of an enchanted 
princess, of which there are in Frenth as in other lang- 
uages a great many, the princess's deliverer, Petit Jean, finds 
in the enchanted palace a table spread with smoking hot 
viands among which were boiled pork, sausages and other 
delicacies dear to the Canadians. The liquors were whis- 
key and rum, the latter being the best real Old Jamacia. 
In a larger and grander hall was a still superior table which 
furnished not only these but pates and black puddings, 
with wines and brandies, the latter being the best French 
brandy, the real article, premiere qualitc, la niei lie lire 
importation. 



AMUSEMENTS— CONTFS AND RACONTEURS. 57 

In the stable were horses and carriages in gieat luinibers, 
a " lh\iii petit hiigi^v " being among the vehicles. 

The giants that were besieging the castle tell Petit Jean 
that the only vulnerable place in the eagle that guards it is 
only ''gros lomnie iin dix cents,'' or no bigger than a ten 
cent piece. When Petit Jean has shot oft" the giant's nose 
he sticks it on again with a piece of s-t-i-c-k-i-n-g-p-1-a-s- 
t-e-r. To hear Nazaire say s-t-i-c-k-i-n-g-p-1-a-s-t-e-r 
is enough to set any company in a roar. 

When Petit Jean is asked to take a drink, he replies 
" Je preihiiiii bien iiii petit coup, en effet,'' precisely the 
words that the Canadian habitant might use under similar 
ciicumstances, and about equivalent to the " 1 don't care if 
1 do " of one to whom such an invitation is not at all un- 
welcome. 

The game of cards that the giants are playing is a pop- 
ular Canadian game, something like " old sledge." 

If one doubts whether ten cent pieces were common in 
fairy times, whether giants used sticking-plaster for their 
wounds, and whether real old Jamaica rum and the best 
quality of French brandy were imported for the use of 
deliverers of enchanted princesses, all we need say is that 
this history of Petit Jean furnishes the most authentic ev- 
idence possible on these points. 

Conte de " Mon petit de'funt frere Louizon." 

Si vous voulez que je vous conte une histoire de mon petit de'funt 
fi^re Louizon. je vous en conter.ii une. 

Cliez mon pauvre p^re nous e'tions sept sai\-ons. Nous n'avions 
rien de quoi manner, c'e'tait bien de valeur. 

Un jour mon petit defunt fr^re Louizon se mit d nous dire que si 
nous avions cliacun un beau petit canot, avec lignage il proportion, 
peut-etre que I'on pendrait quelques s'ros poissons qui soulageraient 
bien la maison. 

Si dit si fait. On s'enfuit ciiez notre pauvre p^re pour faire une 
composition. 



58 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 

Notre pauvre p^re par I'eflfet de sa bonte nous sacrifiait la moitie 
de ses biens pour nous avoir chacun un beau petit canot avec iignag'e 
a proportion, pour aller prendre le plus beau poisson qu'ii y avait 
dans la mer. II les sacrifiait bien, il n'avait rien en tout. 

Quand nous avions nos charmants petits canots nous alliens sur 
la mer. Qa aliait pas vite, cependant qi allait toujours un petit brin. 
On voyait venir une grosse barbue. Qa venait pas vite, cependant 
qx venait toujours un peu. Qa commencait a mordre. Qa mordait 
pas vite, cependant ga mordait toujours un petit brin. 

Quand on la voyait un peu prise c'etait. " Halle gargon. Tire gar- 
gon, gargon tire." Mes chers amis nous avions pris une belle barbue 
quatorze pieds entre les deux yeux. Mesdames, de la peau mon pauvre 
p^re, qui etait un homme robuste, s'est fait un capot avec capuchon, 
tabiier, cordes de Soulier, cordes de couette— on ne parle pas de ga a 
pre'sent, mais dans ce temps la, c'e'tait la grande fagon — corde de fleau, 
cliope de fleau ; parce que mon p^re etait un pauvre homme qui n'avait 
rien de quoi battre, ga nous a bien passe I'liiver. 

Mon pauvre p^re gardait les cornees des yeux pour se faire des 
raquettes. 

C'est alors que mon pauvre p^re nous a defendu la p^clie. II a dit '- 
" Mes chers petit enfants, yous ne p^cherez plus. Vous pourriez 
prendre quelques gros esturgeons qui vous enmenerait tons aufond. 
0-u-i." 

Mais quand nous avions fini de manger notre grosse barbue nous 
n'avions plus rien toujours. 

Un jour mon petit defunt fr^re Louizon se met h nous dire que si 
nous avions chacun un charmant beau petit fusil avec ammunitions 
k proportion, peut etre que Ton tuerait quelques perdrix ou quelques 
li^vres, qui soulageraient bien la maison. Si dit si fait. On s'enfuit 
chez mon pauvre p^re pour faire une composition. Notre pauvre 
p^re par I'effet de sa bonte sacrifiait le reste de son bien pour nous 
ach^ter chacun un beau petit fusil avec ammunition a proportion 
pour tuer le plus beau gibier qu'il y avait dans la for^t. 

II le sacrifiait bien par ce qu'il n'avait rien eu de sa vie. 

Quand nous avions nos charmants beaux petits fusils par malheur 
nous Mions trop jeunes pour les bander. Notre pauvre p^re s'est 
mis a les bander. II les bandait pas vite, cependant il les bandait 
toujours un peu. II les bandait tous les sept, chacun pour huit 
jours. 

Quand nous avions nos charmants beaux petits fusils nous allions 



AMUSFMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 59 

dans les foiets. Imajiinez vous done le carnaval que nous avons 
fait. Nous avons fait rencontre d'une vieille sorciere. 

Mes chers amis, elle avait quatorze pieds entre les deux e'paules. Eile 
nous a pris tons les sept sous les bras et nous a pronienes luiit jours 
dans les fore'ts. On voyait venir en beau clievreuil. II ne venait pas 
vita, cependant il venait touiours un peu. Mon petit de'funt fr^re 
Louizon, si souple et si manigance de son corps, iaclie son coup. 
Nous n'avions pas encore eu le temps de nous de'livrer de notre vieille 
sorciere. 

Mes chers amis, nous avions tue' le plus beau clievreuil, quatorze 
pieds de panage. Nous prenions un gros morceau dans la tete, ga ne 
paraissait pas beaucoup dans le cote'. Quand nous avions pris notre 
charge on s'enfuit au bord du bois. Le bord du bois n'etait pas 
loin, c'etait tout autour de la maison. 

Nous avons trouv^ notre pauvre p^re bien malade. Nous I'avons 
pris bras dessus bras dessous, nous I'avons liche tout autour. C'est 
Ik que mon petit defunt frere Louizon a attrappe' une echauttaison, a 
licher notre pauvre pere. II en est mort. 
C'est bien triste. 

In Canadian story-telling" there is a universal tendency 
to exaggeration that the listener soon learns to take into 
account. It is not the picturesque extravagance of expres- 
sion that often lends such vigorous flavor to the tales of 
western frontiersmen, but simply exaggeration pure and 
simple. I do not look on it as deliberate falsification, but 
only as coming from the habitual inclination of a narrator 
to make the most he can out of his story. 

Nazaire is fond of comparing our appetites in camp to 
that of the man (whose name and residence he gives) who 
was in the habit of eating a six-pound loaf of bread at 
noon while waiting for his dinner. He lived to be 105 
years old, but is supposed to have died from having eaten 
at one meal three pan-cakes of the full size of a large fry- 
ing- pan and an inch thick, with an immense piece of fat 
pork imbedded in each. 

Reading an account of a western cyclone, I mentioned 



60 AMUSEMENTS—CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 

to Nazaire its effects. He immediately told me of one that 
passed over the parish of St. Stanislas some years ago. it 
blew all the water out of the Batiscan river and scattered 
the fishes over the country for a distance of two miles. It 
rolled a pine log up a steep hill, tore the skin off a sheep 
and lodged it in a spruce tree some miles away. Worse 
than that, it blew off, turned wrong side out and twisted 
up the tire of a cart-wheel that had been left at the black- 
smith's shop to be repaired. He mentioned several other 
exploits that 1 have forgotten. When 1 had incautiously 
questioned the accuracy of the report about the cart-wheel 
he grew quite indignant, and declared that a certain cure' was 
still living who could vouch for the truth of the story. I 
thought that if I were going to believe it at all I would 
as soon believe it on Nazaire's word as on the cure's, so 
1 decided not to ask for this confirmation. 

I consider Nazaire as truthful a Canadian as I ever knew, 
but I notice that his recollections of the size and number 
of the fish we have caught, the mountains we have climbed, 
the hardships we have endured and the hair-breadth 
escapes we have had, are not only more precise than mine, 
but differ from them in many other respects. He can give 
a thousand details that 1 have quite forgotten. When 
he tells these stories 1 merely compliment him on his 
good memory. I would not be so impolite as to question 
his exactness. 

The reader will by this time have learned that Nazaire 
is much more to me and my family than an ordinary 
employe. He is an excellent specimen of a medium class 
of farmers and woodsmen, for, like many others, he com- 
bines the two occupations. 

in the early fifties, in the vigor of youth and strength, 
he went to California via Panama, remaining there about 
three years. His experience on the voyage and while 



AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 6l 

there would be, even with frills and embroidery trimmed 
off, well worth printing. Had he been able to read and 
write, with his intelligence, sobriety and readiness to work 
at anything that was honest he might, in those times, soon 
have grown rich. He worked little at gold-digging, but 
took jobs and wages from others, and what was more, he 
saved most of his earnings. Toward the end of three 
years, although he was gaining more than he ever had 
done before, he got homesick, which is not surprising, 
seeing that he had left his young wife behind him. He 
brought home enough to pay what he had borrowed for 
his outfit and have three thousand dollars left with which 
to buy a farm and stock. Having got the farm into run- 
ning order he went to work in the woods, exploring in the 
summer and fall, making logs in the winter and driving 
them in the spring. I had occasion on^ce to employ him, 
and he has stood by me ever since. He loves the woods 
as a sailor loves the sea. A common expression between 
us is " /^ hois est beau" (the woods are beautiful), and 
this no matter what the weather may be. In summer or 
winter, sunshine or storm, rain or snow, le bois est 
toiijours beau. Of late years, when our duties have led 
us to where there were no comfortable camps near at hand, 
we have taken a tent and a small sheet-iron stove and 
camped wherever we liked. These, with our blankets and 
the few provisions necessary, could easily be drawn on a 
toboggan. Camping in a tent in mid-winter in a Cana- 
dian forest does not sound like anything very attractive, 
but it is one of the joys of life to Nazaire and me. When 
our day's work is done, the tent set up, wood all in, and 
our little stove glowing, supper eaten, pipes lighted, and 
we lie down on our luxurious bed of branches, our invari- 
able remark h''Il-j'-en a bieii qui sont plus mat que 
nous autres " (there are a great many people worse off 
than we are). 
6 



62 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 

It is not only to Nazal re and nie that the woods are 
beautiful. The following lines were written for insertion 
in our Camp Register : 

LE BOIS EST TOUJOURS BEAU. 
(The woods are iihciirs hcautifiil.) 



'Tis Spriiii;", the earth in all its veins 

Feels quickened currents flow, 
Like tracery on storied panes, 

The boughs are all a-blow ; 

Then come, let's go, 
" Le bois est toujours beau." 

Midsummer comes with scorching heat, 

The deepest thickets glow, 
The earth is parched beneath our feet, 

The dry brooks cease to flow ; 

But come, let's go, 
" Le bois est toujours beau." 

'Tis Autumn, ripening' red and gold 

In all the tree-tops show, 
With rain is soaked the spongy mold, 

Keen blasts the dead leaves strow ; 

Yet come, let's go, 
"Le bois est toujours beau." 

'Tis Winter, thicker on the lakes 

Their frozen fetters grow, 
The myriad life that summer wakes 

Is buried deep in snow ; 

Still come, let's go, 
" Le bois est toujours beau." 

J. B. Greenough. 

One especially tempestuous afternoon we greath' sur- 
prised an old habitant by declining the shelter of his house 
and setting up our tent a mile away in the woods. He 
came to see us the next morning, half expecting to find us 



AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 63 

dead, instead of which we were just eating an unusually 
good breakfast, and were as happy as lords. 

Much as 1 like Nazaire myself, my family outdoes me. 
On the rare occasions when he comes to our house my 
two girls, who were little things in short dresses when 
lie first began to tie their snowshoes, bait their hooks, take 
otT their fish, and generally make their paths smooth 
when they went on little excursions to our camp with me, 
still rush to the door to be the first to greet him, and gener- 
ally make much of him till he beams all over with delight. 
My wife, who, thanks to the delicious air of Canada, is no 
longer an invalid, seeing him coming, cries out, " Why, 
here is dear old Nazaire ! " and is not far behind the girls. 
She has of late been able to go sometimes to the camp, 
where he is always her constant and devoted attendant. 

Nazaire's friend and crony, Damase (twelve or tifteen 
years younger than he), is another good typical specimen, 
although much more woodsman and hunter than farmer. 
It is pleasant to see the two together. Nazaire uses the 
familiar " tii " in their conversation, but Damase always 
says "vons" to Nazaire. 

1 think there must be a strain of Indian blood in Damase, 
perhaps very remote, but still there. His cheek bones sug- 
gest it and there are other indications as well. Distances 
on foot are nothing to him, or if he counts them at all it 
is by time and not by miles. He can omit several meals 
without inconvenience, making up for them afterwards. 
He is not like Nazaire, always wishing to be occupied, 
but is quite willing to wait or sleep till the time comes 
when something is to be done. He knows the habitat and 
habits of every beast in the forest and every tlsh in the 
streams. Besides being a most expert woodsman, almost 
always employed at good wages, he usually manages to 
add a hundred dollars or so to his winter's earnings by 



64 AMUSEMENTS— CONTES AND RACONTEURS. 

hunting and trapping. He is ordinarily as taciturn as Na- 
zaire is loquacious. If any ugly bit of work is to be done 
Nazaire is careful and prudent, taking all necessary pre- 
cautions against accidents, but Damase goes at it headlong, 
trusting to his bravery and his unequaled nerve to carry 
him through. He is a splendid canoeman in some re- 
spects, but somewhat reckless, often shooting rapids that 
greater experts than he would shrink from. Consequently 
he meets many mishaps, though rarely serious ones. 

But it is on the " drive " that he is greatest, and many 
are the stories told of his daring exploits. Unlike most 
Canadians, he leaves the telling of his adventures to 
others, rarely speaking of them himself. 

On the very edge of the perpendicular cliff that 1 have 
already mentioned, which is there about three hundred feet 
high, and where, some fifty years ago, fire consumed almost 
everything near it, stands a lofty dead pine tree without a 
branch until near the very top. The men tell how Damase 
once climbed to the highest branch where he could look 
far up the lake and see if his logs were coming all right. 
Very few men would wish to attempt such a feat. 



IPart ID 
THE CHURCH 



THE CHURCH 



Tui; parish cluircli is naturally the ccMitre of parish 
activities. Most of the iiuiiistries of the people ^roiip them- 
selves closely around it. 11 is built by a tax levied on the 
real property of all Roman (>atholics in the parish, collect- 
able by the usual processes of law. Those who wish a 
church lo be built petition the Bishop, and the decision 
whether one shall be built rests entirely with him. 

Dsu.illy the i^randeur and costliness of a church bear 
reasonable relation to the wealth of the parish. Occa- 
sionally, however, the necessary tax l">ecomes so heavy as 
seriously to alTect the value of all real estate subject to 
it and to lay heavy burdens on the people. 

The revenues of the Church are administered by the 
" Fabrique," which consists of the church wardens, of 
whom three have direction of ordinary atTairs. The senior 
in service of these three retires at the end of a year, the next 
in service takint; his place, and one new warden is chosen 
annually. The retirinji oHicer does not cease to Ite a warden 
but is still a part of the " Fabrique," and in important mat- 
ters has a voice and a vote. The cure is ex-ollicio presi- 
dent of the " Fabrique." in some parishes only the active 
and past wardens are entitled to vote in the election of a 
new warden, but in most parishes all householdint; parish- 
ioners may vote. Some parishes have no wardens, all 
alTairs beini; conducted l"»y the Bishop, either directly or 
through the cure'. Similar powers of administration are 
also sometimes exercised by a religious community. 

The revenues of priests are derived from a tithe of the 
grain raised, the payment by those who raise no grain of 



68 



THE CHURCH. 



a small sum, say 50c per annum, by or for each commu- 
nicant (including" children after they have made their first 
communion), masses said for the dead or in behalf of the 
living', marriage fees, funeral services, and the like. 

For these services a regular scale of prices is fixed. The 
usual fee for a simple marriage is one dollar. Such mar- 
riages also ordinarily take place in the morning, for the 
convenience of the priest and his daily mass. 

Marriages between relatives are a source of considerable 
revenue to the Church, although not to the parish priest. 

For these, special dis- 
pensations must be had, 
the cost depending on 
the degree of consan- 
guinity and perhaps in 
part on the standing and 
wealth of the parties. 
Entirely unsuspected 
relationships suddenly 
discovered on the eve 
of a marriage ceremony 
have been known to 
cause considerable em- 
barrassment and hur- 
ried visits to the Bishop. 
In a case where rela- 
tionship was discovered 
after the marriage the 
priest demanded that a dispensation should be obtained 
and that the parties should be married over again. The 
man refused, saying that if the first ceremony was not 
valid the woman might go back to her father. Of course 
he was soon compelled to submit. In another case, where 
a widower had been several years married to a widow, it 




TIIF. CHURCH. 



69 



was discovered lliat the man liad Iven i^odfatlier to one of 
the children by the lirst marriage. It was claimed that this 
fact invalidated the subsequent marriage, and that a dis- 
pensation must be obtained and a new marriage performed. 
(This contention, I believe, was not maintained.) 

The numerous way-side crosses always interest travelers 
from countries where such things are not common. They 




are found on all country roads, and are more or less elab- 
orate, according to the devotion and wealth of those who 
erect them, — perhaps a single person, a family, or a num- 
ber of neighbors. A full-si/ed figure carved in wood of 
Christ on the cross is not rare. This is called a " cnhhure " 
and is usually neatly enclosed by a fence and roofed over. 
Occasionally more pretentious emblems may l^e met, as of 
Christ and the two thieves. Permission to photograph one 
of these, asked from the family near whose house it stood, 



70 THE CHURCH. 

was not only given readily, but the women of the family 
volunteered to go out and pose themselves before it, to suit 
the photographer. The utter nonchalance of the offer and 
absence of any devotional sentiment about it was striking. 

Funerals add much to the revenue of the church, and 
are costly on a rapidly rising scale in proportion to the 
amount of ceremonial. The fees for a very simple ser- 
vice may be from ten to twenty dollars, and for a more 
elaborate one may easily be carried up to hundreds. These 
expensive ceremonies, however, are rare in country par- 
ishes, although common in cities. The habitant's fimeral 
is usually of an humble character, and takes place at an early 
hour in the morning, for the same reason as marriages. 

Apart from tithes and those sources of income which 
belong to the cure personally, the revenues are mainly 
devoted to the embellishment of the church and similar 
objects when once the church is built and paid for. 

The priests are not all bound to poverty. The cure 
of a prosperous parish may become a very wealthy man. 
He will probably leave part of his property for religious 
objects, but his relatives will expect to share in it. 

It is claimed that the requirements of the Church are 
much more onerous and its regulations more stringent than 
formerly. It has recently been ordered that women shall 
not sing in church choirs. One cure tries to prevent 
young people of different sexes from walking to church 
together. Another is especially severe on dancing, but it 
has been found when they get out of his sight his parish- 
ioners are disposed to dance quite as long as a tiddler will 
play. Dancing is permitted at weddings and on ceremo- 
nious occasions, but is looked upon with strong disfavor 
by most of the clergy. In other respects the demands of 
the Church are said to have become heavier. There is 
much difference between priests in all such matters as these, 



THE CHURCH. 71 

some being extremely rigid while others are moderately 
liberal. The general tendency appears to me to be towards 
greater strictness, but I can only judge from what 1 hear 
spoken of among the people. 

Mixed marriages are strongly objected to, and are not 
considered as sacraments, like those between Roman Cath- 
olics. They are legal marriages, but the Church " neither 
blesses nor curses them " ; they are allowed to be treated 
as civil contracts only. Formerly children of such mar- 
riages were allowed to be brought up in the faith of the 
parent of the same sex ; now it must be agreed that all 
the children shall be brought up Roman Catholics. 

Pope Pius IX was once reported to have said that the 
French Canadians were the most submissive in matters of 
faith of any catholics in the world ; but that on some other 
matters they brought more questions before him than oth- 
ers. These disputes probably related to jurisdiction and 
the like between the higher clergy, or to quarrels of a more 
or less secular character between priests and people. 

No fee is paid to the priest for christenings, but if the 
bell is rung the beadle is paid for ringing it. The ringing 
of the bell is an act of worship, and is seldom omitted. 

Some of the names given to boys seem strange to us, 
and we often wonder where the parents found them, for 
these uncommon names are not usually hereditary in fam- 
ilies. Often such a name is that of the saint whose festival 
occurs on the birthday of the child, as shown on the calen- 
dar for the year, issued on a large sheet under the super- 
vision of the ecclesiastical authorities. We have near us 
such names as Adjutor, Clovis, Gaudiase, Hermenegilde, 
Hermidas, etc. The names of girls are ordinarily less 
striking than those of boys, although some of them are 
rather peculiar. 

The clergy tell me that the common idea that every boy 



72 THE CHURCH. 

is christened " Josepli " and every girl " Marie " is not 
correct. It is enough if the child has the name of some 
patron saint. As these two are the most venerated names 
they are the ones most frequently given. But the people, 
my friends the habitants, still insist that they are right, 
and that even if the name does not always go into the 
priest's register (as it certainly does not), the child has it 
all the same. The only way in which I can reconcile these 
difl'erent ideas is on the principle that, as St. Joseph is the 
religious patron of all French Canadians, the boy is as- 
sumed to have his name whether it is specially mentioned 
or not. And similarly every girl has the name " Marie." 

In 1624 St. Joseph was solemnly chosen and installed, 
with all the ceremony possible at that time, religious pat- 
ron of all Canada. The choice of St. Jean Baptiste as the 
national patron was only made in the present century. 

The founders of the Ursuline Communitie consecrated 
themselves and all the results of their labors in Canada to 
the Holy Family before their departure from France. 

All churches are dedicated to some saint : to St. Anne, 
to St. Joseph, and many to the Virgin in some one of her 
manifestations, as "of the Incarnation," " of the Assump- 
tion," " of Sorrows," etc. 

The word dit (called) so often seen in connection with 
proper names, as The'ophile Langlois dit Bernard, may 
happen to be used for a variety of reasons. When a 
family name follows the dit it is often because of a sec- 
ond marriage of the mother when her child is known and 
brought up under the name of its stepfather. When a 
baptismal name follows dit it is merely to distinguish one 
person from another. In this case Theophile Langlois 
was always called by us Theophile Bernard, because his 
father's Christian name was Bernard, In notarial docu- 
ments the name would most probably be written " Theo- 



THE CHURCH. 73 

phile Langlois dit Bernard," for his more certain identifi- 
cation. Notaries are habitually very careful in respect to 
identifying their clients. We have also here Isidore Noel 
and Aini(S Noel, brothers, sons of Noel Frenette, there 
being several families of Frenettes in this and neighboring 
parishes. If, in conversation, a person should speak of 
Isidore Frenette he might be asked what Isidore was re- 
ferred to and might reply " Isidore a Noel," although in 
familiar speech the a would be omitted. In some places 
the method of identitication is carried still further. Thus 
we have Felix a (son of) Samuel ^7 (son of) Joseph-lgnace 
Gignac (the a between Joseph and Ignase omitted for 
euphony), and Hilare a Joseph a Henri a Pierre Vachon. 

Sobriquets are very common, not altogether as nick- 
names, although they often mark some personal peculiar- 
ity, but merely to distinguish one person from another. 

The priests that 1 have met 1 have found generally to 
be educated and cultivated men, some of course much 
more so than others. I judge that the extremes of culture 
and education would be hardly as great as among the 
clergy of New England. The facilities for education for 
the priesthood are good, and easily and cheaply obtained. 
A certain amount of education is absolutely requisite, and 
a man cannot preach and exhort merely because he feels 
moved to do so, as he might in some sects in the States. 
He must be duly authorized. But neither on the other 
hand can the priest attain to the vigor and independence 

NOTE.— In many families cf some distinction ancestral names are 
carefully preserved here as elsewhere, and the whole name becomes 
a long one, as in the case of an old acquaintance of mine (Peace to his 
ashes !) whose name was Charles Joseph Louis Alexander Fleury 
de la Gorgendiere. In the course of time, however, the capital G 
had been dropped and the name as used became Lagorgendiere. 
The family name of Fleury was retained. Similarly La Chevi(_)tiere 
became Lacheviotiere, d'Eschambault, Deschambault, etc. 



74 THE CHURCH. 



of thought of the less fettered minister ; nor indeed are 
tliese qiKihties called for in the ordinary parish priest. 
When a course of preaching' is desired the services of a 
priest of an order that makes preaching its specialty are 
secured. 

The priests come from and are of the people. Any 
young man may aspire to the priesthood ; and if he aspires 
to it he is encouraged and aided to reach it. His parents 
will be proud to have one of their sons become a priest, 
and if poor will often deprive themselves of luxuries and 
even of comforts in order to help him. He is assured of 
position and support, and credit is likewise reflected on 
themselves, for unless the young man shows a clean family 
record he will not be admitted to the order. A whole parish 
sometimes takes an interest in having one of its children 
received. 1 remember once when passing through a vil- 
lage 1 found it decorated with (lags and evergreens, inquir- 
ing the reason 1 was informed that it was because a young 
man of the parish was that day to be made a priest. 

All the cures are removable at the discretion of their 
Bishop, except one in Montreal and one in Quebec. This 
power of removal was one for which Laval, the first 
Bishop, fought long and hard. 

The Canadian is strongly attached to his religion and 
gives attention to its observances whether he abides by its 
moral precepts or not. In the elegance of his parish 
church the habitant takes great pride. The feast days of 
the Church are the dates from which he reckons. He 
mav not be able to tell you the month in which anything 
occurred, but he will say whether it happened before or 
after L's Fcfes (Christmas holidays), Pdqiies (Easter), /,<? 
Toitssiiiiit (All Saints' Day), or other festivaC There 
are not very many of these festivals whose observance is 
positively obligatory, but there are many others that are 





^ 



m'^;( 




THE CHURCH. 



75 



more or less strictly observed, sometimes much to the 
annoyance of the people who pay no attention to them 
and find their business or pleasures interrupted by them. 

One may sometimes tind himself in a- parish where a 
" retraite " (retreat) is in order. This lasts nine days, dur- 
ing which nearly the whole time is given up to religious 
exercises. Retreats are, however, rare. 1 remember only 
two in our parish in the last nine years. The devotions 
known as"/f^.s" qiiainii/e beiires" (the forty houis) are 




held annually. Very little except strictly necessary work is 
done during this time, and attendance at church is general, 
in this Province there are now no general religious cere- 
monies held out of doors except that of Corpus Christi, 
which is celebrated here as in all Roman Catholic countries 
by open air processions when the weather will permit. 
In the cities the processions are larger and more gorgeous, 
but they lack the simple picturesqueness of those of 
country parishes. In these the route of the procession is 
thickly bordered with " baliies," on which are hung 



76 



THE CHURCH. 



showy decorations of all descriptions,— strips of cloth of 
various colors, quilts, carpeting, curtains, table-cloths and 
the like. Arches of evergreens are built and ornamented 
with pictures, mottoes, and flags. At intervals small pri- 
vate altars, called ''Reposoirs," are erected under structures 
of evergreens and decorated with flowers (usually of paper), 
crosses and religious emblems, pictures, etc. The road is 
swept clean and sprinkled with fresh sawdust. In the vicin- 
ity of ''Reposoirs " at least, lines of carpeting are laid down. 
Issuing from the church the procession takes up its 
route, the priest in his most showy robes bearing the Host, 
walking under a gorgeous canopy carried by four men, 
preceded by the choir in their surplices singing canticles, 
others bearing banners, and by two boys swinging censers 
of burning incense ; then follow the little girls and the 
maidens, dressed in white, and the boys in dark clothes, 
all carrying flags. The women on one side of the road 
and the men on the other, in double tiles, complete the 
procession. Arrived before one of these " Reposoirs," all 
devoutly kneel while the priest recites the appropriate 
prayers. The procession re-forms and proceeds to another 
altar, returning to the chinxh in the same order. The 

whole ceremony lasts 
from half to three-quar- 
ters of an hour. As soon 
as the procession's back 
is turned the women 
who have remained at 
home make haste to 
remove their portable 
property from the altars 
and road, and in tlve 
minutes there is little be- 
sides the " bailees" ^nd 




THE CHURCH. 77 

the unusually clean street to tell of the ceremonies per- 
formed. 

The condition of the priest has changed very much 
more than his character. With the exception of a few 
missionaries the priests are not now obliged to make long 
and arduous journeys, to endure the extremest hardships 
and even to suffer martyrdom for their Church, as in 
former times. We have no reason to think, however, 
that the priest of today would shrink from these if they 
were necessary any more than did his predecessors. The 
fervor of Jesuit zeal has perhaps in a measure subsided, 
but the early Fathers of that order impressed their prin- 
ciples so deeply and strongly on the Canadian Church 
and clergy that their influence is felt to this day. 
Their power and activity were always very great at Quebec. 
Quarrels between them and the Governors of the colony 
were almost incessant, each accusing the other of trickery 
and double dealing. Doubtless both were correct. Some 
of the governors and other officials were far from being 
models of punctilious honesty, while the ambition of the 
Jesuits was as unbounded as their zeal and devotion, and 
their scruples as to methods were few. Their disputes 
with the Sulpitians of Montreal were scarcely less bitter. 
The Sulpitians, however, were less inclined to meddle 
with public affairs, confining themselves more to their 
purely religious functions and the developement of their 
estates. 

The parish priest of today holds his parishioners to as 
strict an observance of their obligations to the Church and 
is no more tolerant of heresy among them than was the 
priest of the 17th century. He cannot say now, as was 
said then, " There are no heretics in New France;" for 
some religious toleration had become necessary before the 
Conquest and full toleration was required after it ; but in 
7 



78 THE CHURCH. 

his own flock he combats heresy as strongly as did Laval 
or St. Valier, Catholics and protestants now live as a 
rule in entire harmony, a harmony creditable to both 
parties. There are very few conversions on the one side 
or the other, and little attempt at proselytizing. 

The minimum salary for a priest sent to a parish or 
mission permanently is ^400, although some will volun- 
teer to take a place where that amount cannot be raised. 
1 heard of one a few days ago who had gone to try a 
place where not even $200 could be promised. By hav- 
ing his sister to keep his house and his brother to cultivate 
some land, both without pay, he hoped to exist. 

The priest who was formerly paid by a tithe (1-26) on 
the grain raised in his parish now sometimes finds it hard 
to get anything else in its place. In a neighboring parish 
a few Sundays ago the cure gave his parishioners a tre- 
mendous scolding for raising other articles instead of 
grain on purpose to save his tithes. The habitants laughed 
at him. They have the greatest regard for their cure in 
his spiritual capacity, but when it comes to paying out 
cash or its equivalent they would as soon get the better of 
him as of anyone else. 1 remember when, in the time of 
the Reciprocity Treaty with the States, there were buyers 
of oats for shipment, the first man the purchasers went to 
was the miller, whose tolls were sure to be good, and the 
last one was the priest, who would have the poorest grain 
of anyone. 

1 know of another priest any one of whose people would 
be most delighted if he could get the better of him in a 
horse trade. 1 have been given to understand that this is 
a hard thing to do. 

The priest of our parish has preached and talked faith- 
fully on the importance of cleanliness, drainage and disin- 
fection as precautions against diphtheria, but the people 



THE CHURCH. 79 

pay not the slightest attention to anything of that sort 
that he says. Consequently this dreaded disease creates 
fearful ravages among the children every year. 

This is rather a common, though not by any means the 
universal, feeling towards the priest, — a thorough reliance 
on his dicta in spiritual matters combined with some awe 
of him, "on general principles" as we might say, and an 
entire disregard of his views on other points. 

A religious exercise that includes what some consider a 
pleasure excursion is a pilgrimage to the Shrine of Ste. 
Anne de Beaupre or " La bonne Ste. Anne," some 20 
miles below Quebec on the St. Lawrence. For many years 
this shrine has been celebrated for miraculous virtues. 
During the summer season parties from most of the 
parishes within fairly easy reach, and latterly even from 
considerable distances, are made up to visit it. Within a 
few years a railroad has been built from Quebec, and the 
journey from that point may be quickly and easily made.' 
But a more favored way is to go by a special trip of one 
of the small steamers that make more or less regular voy- 
ages from the river points to Quebec for the market days. 
The business part of the excursion is managed much like 
that of Sunday school picnics, the priest of the parish and 
one or two others usually making preliminary arrange- 
ments of dates, rates of fare and the like. Sometimes 
one man may charter a steamer and make a little specu- 
lation out of the business. Fares are low and the people 
mostly carry their own provisions so that the trip is not 
an expensive one and the boats are almost always uncom- 
fortably crowded. 

Take a trip from an up-river parish 50 or 60 miles 
from Quebec. The boat must start at an early hour, say 
5, 6 or 7 o'clock — depending on the tide — and the people 
at a distance must leave their homes often at 2 or 3 o'clock 



80 THE CHURCH. 

in the morning. They reach Ste. Anne perhaps about 
noon, spend an hour or two in religious exercises and in 
looking about, and then start for home, which they will 
not reach till very late at night. They have had a hard 
day and admit being fatigued, but not one will allow the 
trip to have been unprofitable, for prayers said at the 
shrine are supposed to have very great eificacy. One 
woman perhaps expressed the general feeling. She 
had come from some point in the States and was disposed 
to comment on the hardships and expenses of her journey. 
" Why," said she, " for the same money we might have 
gone to Saratoga and enjoyed ourselves. But then (re- 
signedly) only think how much good it has done to our 
souls." 

The Church of Ste. Anne is very fine and the decora- 
tion of a high order. Most of it was done by Italian 
artists, brought over for the purpose. American tourists 
to Quebec who have the time to spare now try to include 
a visit to Ste. Anne with their other sight-seeing. The 
church is claimed to possess a genuine relic of Ste. Anne, 
and some miracles are reported to be performed there 
every year. 

The priests receive confessions on board the steamers 
en route. Mass is said shortly after arrival, at which 
those who have confessed receive communion, and all are 
then at liberty to occupy themselves as they like until 
called to start for home. 

The people seem to have considerable confidence in 
possible benefits to be derived from a pilgrimage and there 
is always a number of invalids in a party. They certainly 
ought to be benefitted in some way to offset the discom- 
forts and sufferings of the journey. 

Some priests, however, do not look with much favor on 
these pilgrimages and quietly abstain from helping to ar- 



THE Church. 8l 

range them, although not opposing them. But that is usu- 
ally sut^lcient. If the priest is cold or lukewarm in the 
matter the people are not likely to be very enthusiastic. 
We need not say they lack faith in the virtues of the shrine ; 
they may think that the evil results of a pilgrimage over- 
balance the good. Order is generally well kept, but it 
would not be strange if among so many people there 
should be occasional excesses and irregularities. 



Ipart UH 
MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES 



MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES 



Marriages are contracted among the poorer Canadians 
in the same reckless, improvident manner as among the 
very poor all over the world. There is not much calcu- 
lation as to how the future family is to be supported. If 
a man can get enough to eat for himself he seems to think 
it will suffice for two ; and the women appear to be of 
the same opinion. A man was earning four dollars and a 
half a week on which to support a wife and three young 
children. His son by a former marriage was earning only 
five dollars a month when he took it into his head to 
marry and go to live with his father. The house, of one 
room twenty feet square, was, with the aid of some calico 
curtains, made the home of both families. The two 
women cooked their separate meals on the same stove, 
each man providing his portion of the wood. 

Another couple was to be married as soon as the man 
could get money enough ahead to pay the priest's fee. 
He got near enough to if one week to induce him to set 
the wedding for the next Monday morning, but he cele- 
brated the ceremony in advance rather too much and 
Saturday night found him short of the requisite dollar, 
Sunday afternoon, however, he went fishing and caught 
and sold " tommy cods " enough to realize the amount 
that was lacking. 

I have heard another man say that when he had paid 
the priest's fee for marrying him he had just fifty cents 
left. The woman had not even that. 1 imagine their 



86 MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 

balance in hand has oftener been less than fifty cents than 
over it ever since. 

A rather amusing instance of proclivity to matrimony 
came under our notice. A very poor woman, middle 
aged, (and I think the strongest woman I ever saw,) was 
doing scrubbing for us when she met with a trifling acci- 
dent which kept her away for a few days. When we 
asked when she could come back to work we were in- 
formed that she was going to get married and would not 
work any more for anybody. As she had been a widow 
less than two months we were a little surprised, and in- 
quired into the particulars. It appears that while she was 
in attendance on her late aged and infirm husband the 
people in whose house the couple occupied a room gave 
lodging one night to a one-armed beggar. He was so 
much pleased with the manner in which she took care of 
the old man that he expressed his intention of coming 
back after her husband was dead and marrying her. in 
the course of time the old man died and the beggar came 
for her. When asked why such a strong, healthy woman 
as she was should want to marry a crippled beggar she 
replied that she was tired of work and wanted to live at 
ease. That the beggar was very well ofT, had a thousand 
dollars in the bank, his board cost him nothing and he 
could beg enough for both of them. Besides, she was 
nothing but a beggar herself, for she could not get work 
enough to support herself, her child and her dogs. As he 
was just her age, forty-four, she thought it was a good 
match, and no matter what other people might say she 
was going to marry him and not do any more work. 

The course of true love does not always run smooth 
here more than elsewhere. A man who had been some 
years a widower engaged to marry a maiden of some 
forty -tive or fifty years. It seems that she was so much 



MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 8? 

pleased at the prospect that she went about telling every- 
one of it, which for some reason or other displeased him 
and he broke off the engagement. They settled matters 
up again after a while and were being " called " in the 
church ; but the priest made a mistake and " called " her 
to the wrong man. It happened to be a dead man so one 
would think no great harm had been done, as indeed there 
had not, for the mistake was promptly rectified. How- 
ever, the bridegroom was so vexed with the priest that he 
went off and got drunk, at which she was angry and 
broke the engagement in her turn. Shortly afterward 
her brother was taken ill and died, and this man went to 
the funeral, which was in another parish. There her 
father was taken ill, carried home and placed on the bed 
from which his son had just been removed. The man 
gave so much assistance, showed so much sympathy, and 
altogether behaved so well, that she forgave his delin- 
quencies. They came back to their own parish Saturday 
night, and at six o'clock Monday morning went to the 
church by themselves and were married. It looks as if 
neither party was inclined to risk more ruptures of the 
engagement. 

There is a well-authenticated story of a man of wealth 
who was engaged to be married to a woman of something 
near his own age, and who bought and elegantly furnished 
a house for their occupancy. For some reason unknown 
they decided not to marry, but they went together to the 
house, packed up with the greatest care all the beautiful 
furniture and there left it. She remained in her own 
rooms and he took small rooms elsewhere. Every after- 
noon for thirty years and more he called at a certain hour 
and they walked out together ; and once a week she 
dressed in state and dined with him at his rooms or 
he with her at hers, she always inviting some young girl 



88 MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 

to act as chaperon. One day he was taken sick and did 
not call. She, being herself ill with a slight cold, wrote 
him a note. He died the next day with her note in his 
hand. Less than a month later she died, the doctors said 
from grief, as she had no disease. The great house with 
all its furnishings remained unoccupied and unused until 
within a very few years. 

It is told of a hunter and woodsman, who still lives in 
a neighboring parish, that he made arrangements to be 
married on Monday (which seems to be a favorite time) 
and on Saturday went to Quebec to purchase his outfit. 
He met so many friends whom it was necessary to treat, 
and who treated him so much, that he found himself, or 
rather was found, late in the afternoon very drunk and 
without a cent. A neighbor took him home in a sleigh ; 
but the neighbor had a bottle, and Jean had to be put to 
bed more drunk than ever. He went to sleep and did not 
wake up enough to know what he was about until Sunday 
afternoon. Then he realized that something must be 
done or his marriage would be a failure for that time 
sure. He took his gun and some traps and went away to 
the woods. Before daylight he returned with two otter 
skins on his back, routed up a village shopkeeper and 
sold the skins, went to the church and was on hand to be 
married according to the programme. 1 believe Jean has 
lived on very much the same happy-go-lucky plan ever 
since. 

Not all weddings here in Canada are so simple and un- 
ceremonious as those 1 have mentioned. Here, as else- 
where, some people want a good deal of parade and others 
either do not care for or cannot afford it. 

Years ago weddings among well-to-do habitants were, 
and occasionally are now, made scenes of festivity last- 
ing several days. Practically open house was kept, 



MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 89 

sometimes for nearly a week. The amount of eating, 
drinking and dancing done was prodigious. Drinking, 
in former days, was more general and heavier than now 
and fights sometimes occurred, but rarely resulted seri- 
ously. The Canadians do not like stand-up pugilistic 
encounters like the English, or rows with shillaly like 
the Irish. Two or three good solid blows are enough to 
settle almost any of their little difficulties. 

My family was once unintentionally the means of turn- 
ing what was intended to be a very quiet wedding into a 
genuine f^te. The bride was an amiable and estimable 
girl, sister to our manof-all-work, who has been with us 
for several years, and to our housemaid, to whom my wife 
and daughters are much attached. The whole family is 
greatly respected in the village. To please our little maid 
and the rest, my people added some small articles to the 
bride's trosseau and then prompted me to oifer something 
more. They decided that nothing would give everybody 
so much pleasure as a chance to dance, and proposed that 
I should provide fiddlers and that they should give an 
afternoon tea. We secured a vacant house near by and 
decorated the rooms with red and white cotton cloth. 
The decorations were extremely simple but turned out to 
be effective and were greatly admired. 

The marriage was to be on Tuesday, and the two mu- 
sicians, who came from another parish, arrived on Monday 
afternoon. After refreshments they tuned up and dancing 
began, at the house of the bride's father. It was kept up 
until eleven P. m., stopping only for supper. At seven 
the next morning the wedding took place, and immedi- 
ately after breakfast dancing was resumed, which contin- 
ued till noon. 

We had not ourselves intended to take any part in the 
festivities, but found that the bride would feel really grat- 



90 MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 

ified if we would attend the dinner, which took the place 
of the usual wedding breakfast. We feared we should be 
an embarrassment, but so much was said and the invita- 
tion so cordial, that we consented and finally decided that 
we would go in for all the fun there was going. We were 
given the most distinguished places at the table, next the 
dame d'honneur, who was no other than our little house- 
maid. I must say that she was the life of the occasion 
and carried affairs along with a spirit and vigor that we 
had often suspected was in her but had never seen before. 
At our house she is extremely quiet and demure, but at 
the wedding she evidently let herself loose and things had 
to go the way she wanted them. 

The dinner was set in the kitchen of the farm-house and 
was not very different from the usual farmer's fare, but 
was good and abundant. There were no liquors — the 
whole family being temperance people— but we drank the 
bride's health in tea so strong it almost made my head 
swim. She was pleased and everybody was merry. 

When the first party had finished their repast — for the 
tables had to be set twice more before all were satisfied — 
the doctor of the village got up and made a neat speech 
that must have cost him some trouble to prepare. 
There was no regular reply for the bridegroom evidently 
had no taste for speech-making and no one else thought 
it his duty, so we contented ourselves with vigorously 
applauding the doctor's sentiments. 

By two o'clock all had been fed, and adjournment was 
made to the rooms we had prepared. After a few min- 
utes spent in commenting on our decorations all hands 
speedily settled to business. My wife and daughters 
hunted me up and insisted that it was my duty to open 
the dance with the bride, which 1 did. And more than 
that, I kept on till I think I must have danced with nearly 



MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 91 

all her family. I had n't danced so much in twenty years. 
My family said they had no idea there was so much dance 
left in me. It was lots of fun. 

The dances were quadrilles and cotillions, with an occa- 
sional jig, round dances being forbidden. Men did not 
take their partners round the waist, but by their elbow?. 
1 made two or three mistakes about that, but was gently 
reminded that the Canadian fashion was considered more 
proper. Those cotillions made me perspire. There was 
one girl of fifteen or sixteen years who weighed 1 think 
about as much as 1 did who always seemed to want to 
turn round twice to my once. One dance with her was 
enough. I think there was not a dry thread on me when 
it was over. 

The two fiddlers did not play together, but when one 
stopped the other commenced, and the intervals between 
dances were very short. It was a case of " one down 
another come on " all the afternoon. The dancing was 
lively and vigorous but not rude nor rough in the least. 
There was not much formality, but perfect propriety. 
Only one man appeared to have taken privately a little 
more drink than was good for him, and he was only silly. 
He was induced to go home for something and did not 
get back. 

A little incident at one time promised to disturb the 
harmony, but it was soon over and few persons knew any- 
thing about it. A rejected suitor appeared outside the 
house in an excited condition vowing vengeance on the 
bride and threatening bodily injury to the groom. Two 
of the lady's brothers went out and administered some 
very forcible language to the young man and one of them 
emphasized his remarks with a good claque on the side of 
the head, whereon he got into his cariole and drove away. 

Dancing and refreshments continued until six without 



92 MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 

interruption. I was smoking a quiet pipe in one of tlie 
rooms when somebody called me out. 1 found the guests 
assembled in the dancing-room, and the schoolmaster 
stepped out and read a very neatly written address which 
should have been made to my wife and daughters instead 
of me, for 1 had had very little to do with the affair ex- 
cept to pay the fiddlers. I was a good deal nonplussed at 
first, but managed to say that we were very much obliged 
to the people for their compliments and glad they had en- 
joyed themselves. I got out of that function in short 
metre, and on the whole, very easily. 

Then everybody went to supper and afterwards danced 
till five the next morning. 1 dropped into the house for 
a few minutes in the evening and found everything in full 
blast. Two rooms were made available, with a fiddler in 
each. While a set was dancing in one room another was 
being made up in the other one, so that there were abso- 
lutely no waits at all. The non- dancers played cards and 
sang in another room without disturbing the others in 
the least. I went home and to bed, but when I went back 
to the village about ten o'clock next morning I heard the 
fiddles going again and they did not stop till dinner time. 

At two o'clock the young couple started for their new 
home, 30 miles away, escorted by several sleigh-loads of 
relatives and friends. Arrived there, they found fresh 
fiddlers on hand and fifty or more neighbors assembled, so 
there was almost continuous dancing again till noon of the 
following day. Our little maid, who was of the escorting 
party, came back at about sunset with feet so swollen that 
she could get no shoes on and was obliged to shuffle round 
the house for three or four days in a pair of old over- 
stockings. When she told her story I wished I had a copy 
of the well-known picture entitled " Enfin Seuls " to send 
to the nouveaux maries. I am sure they would have 
appreciated it. 



MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 93 

We were quite satisfied with our success. At small ex- 
pense to ourselves we had given pleasure to a good many 
people and had assisted at a genuinely Canadian wedding. 
It was frankly and honestly simple, dignified and decorous 
and had been enjoyed with true Canadian lighthearted- 
ness. 

It added greatly to our pleasure that our faithful Na- 
zaire was present and was made much of, to his mingled 
delight and embarrassment. He had come to see me on 
business and to resign on the twentieth anniversary of his 
engagement in our service and on account of advancing 
years, the position he had so long and honorably tilled. 
As soon as it was known that he was in the village the 
bride's family insisted that he should be of the wedding 
party. He was known to most of the people and it did 
not take long for the others to make his acquaintance. 
Whenever 1 caught sight of him he was surrounded by a 
group of attentive listeners. Added years have subtracted 
nothing from his loquacity, and 1 suspect our adventures 
and experience together in the woods formed the basis of 
much of his conversation. 1 am glad I was not called on 
to vouch for his stories, for 1 am rather afraid his memory 
has grown astigmatic of late. He was greatly distressed 
because he was not dressed for a wedding. I assured him 
that it was not of the slightest consequence and that he 
looked as well as any of us. Privately I was glad of it, 
for to me his honest, rugged features show better out of 
homespun than out of store clothes. But no one, not 
even the bride nor my daughters, could induce him to 
dance. I was awfully sorry, for 1 think he would have 
shown us some steps that are not taught by dancing 
masters now-a-days. 

Good old Nazaire ! He went home by the midnight 



94 



MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 



train, assuring me that he should never forget or regret 
his visit. 

The habitant is extremely fond of everything that has the 
air of a fete, and one other little lark which we have had 
with our habitant neighbors is as characteristic as the wed- 
ding just described. It was no longer ago than last summer. 
Our neighbors could never understand why we liked 
so much to go to Lake Clair. They thought there was 
nothing we could do there but catch and eat fish. We 
wanted to give some of them an entertainment, so we in- 
vited twenty-five or thirty to make a picnic at the lake, 
stopping there over one night. A goodly number came, 
fathers and mothers, young men and maidens. 1 think a 
merrier lot of people was never brought together. They 
were like a lot of children let out of school. They ran, 
raced, sang, shouted and played tricks on each other with 
as much glee and zest as if they had never had a care in 




MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 95 

their lives ; and all without a particle of objectionable 
rudeness. 

Their greatest delight, however, was in the boating. 
All our water craft of course were at their service, and as 
they were quite safe 1 had no anxiety except to be a little 
careful as to who went out in the smaller canoes. As it 
was there was not the slightest mishap except that the 
only expert canoeman in the party managed to tip him- 
self over without the least excuse. One more laugh, a 
little more uproarious than the others, was the only notice- 
able result. 

In the evening we had a procession of boats and canoes 
with torches, and afterwards fireworks, and tableaux with 
colored lights, which were very pretty, being arranged so 
as to appear as if on the water. The weather was perfect 
and the lake like a mirror. There was one tableau that 
was quite striking. After a brilliant illumination and 
while eyes were still a little dazzled a figure in white ap- 
peared, gliding gently over the water without any visible 
means of propulsion. She was poised high on the bow 
of a canoe large enough to be steady, and with red, 
white or blue lights burning behind her she appeared in 
a kind of halo, and the canoe, paddled noiselessly along, 
was not seen. Some exclaimed " Le d-i-a-b-l-e-est de- 
dans!" (the devil is in it) with the peculiar intonation 
often given to the expression. It was only an indication 
of wonder and delight and not of opinion that his satanic 
majesty had anything to do with it. 

When all these things were done and a lot of songs had 
been sung 1 thought it was time for folks to go to bed, 
but my friends apparently had no such views. When the 
assembly broke up they nearly all went otT by twos, 
threes and tours in boats and canoes and in a few minutes 



96 MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 

were scattered all over the lake, some singing and some 
only chaffing the rest. 

There was one quite old man, much bent up with rheu- 
matism and so generally feeble that I wondered how he 
ever reached the lake, whom I thought ought to be looked 
after. 1 told one of his sons that he ought to get the old 
man in and put him nicely to bed. He went to look for 
him and found he had gone away to the other side of the 
lake with a boat-load of young folks, and apparently had 
no thought of going to bed at all. 

We had provided comfortable beds for all the women 
and set up two tents with plenty of branches for the men 
whom we could not accommodate otherwise ; but a few 
of the young women were determined that they would 
sleep in a tent for once in their lives now that they had 
the chance, so they took possession of one, got their fathers 
to occupy the other to chaperon them, and told the other 
men they might go and sleep wherever they could. I 
heard it intimated next morning that not much sleeping 
was done in either tent that night ; but as everybody was 
happy and jolly over it that did not much matter. 

Everybody was out bright and early and after a fore- 
noon spent in boating and visiting points of interest, 
started for home, a five hours' drive, in great spirits. For 
a week afterwards there was not much talked about in 
our village but the Canadian picnic at Lake Clair. 

The fun of it all for us was in seeing the pleasure the 
people took in everything they saw or did and their hearty 
abandon. It is great sport to get up such things for 
people to whom they are all n,ew and strange ; but who, 
while not critical, have intelligence to appreciate them 
fairly well. 

We were quite struck with the good looks of most of 
our party, of the men particularly. Nearly all had good 



MARRIAGES AND FESTIVITIES. 97 

features and very good figures. Possibly this lot happened 
to be a little above the average, but we consider the 
Canadians in general to be rather a handsome race. We 
see a good many children, little girls especially, that are 
very lovely. As women, with their large families and 
hard work, they are apt to fade early. 



Ipart Dlllf 
THE FEUDAL SYSTEM 



THE FEUDAL SYSTEM 



Until quite recent times the whole of the settled, and 
much of the unsettled, part of Canada was held under feudal 
tenure. The seigneurs held grants of land from the Crown 
on the simple condition of faith and homage. These grants, 
however, were liable to be changed or revoked or new con- 
ditions imposed at the will of the sovereign. " For such 
is our pleasure " was the only reason necessary to be given 
by the king. These tracts were divided by the seigneurs 
into farms of convenient size, usually four arpents of 192 
English feet each in front by forty arpents in depth, which 
were conceded (leased) at a perpetual rental, besides other 
obligations, of which more hereafter. 

As the river was the great highway in summer, and 
sometimes offered the most available roadway in winter, 
and as the best land lay along its banks, the seigneuries 
bordering on it were made narrow in front and extending 
back to a considerable depth. The farm-lands being laid 
out on the same plan gave to each tenant the privilege of 
fishing in the St. Lawrence and cultivating a certain 
amount of excellent land on its banks with sufficient 
pasture and wood-land farther back. 

Sub-divisions of these farms were, and still are, made on 
the same system, so that we may often hear a man say 
that he has an arpent or two arpents of land, meaning that 
he has one or two arpents of front by forty arpents in 
depth. This method of dividing lots accounts for the 



102 The feudal system. 

long, narrow strips of land with their apparently intermi- 
nable fences that so constantly meet the eye of the trav- 
eller. 

This plan offered several advantages to the settlers, such 
as the making of roads, social intercourse, and, most of all, 
prompt mutual help against the attacks of the savages. 
The same system extended to the lands in the rear when 
those on the river bank had all been conceded. It is only 
in comparatively modern times, since the Conquest in 
fact, that lands far from the St. Lawrence have been con- 
sidered of any great value ; and only as the growth of the 
population has forced the younger generations to occupy 
them have they been brought under cultivation. 

This system also has made the main road from Quebec 
to Montreal almost a continuous village, more densely 
peopled in the vicinity of the churches, but still closely 
settled nearly all the way. 

Towards the end of the seventeenth century the rental 
of these farms, in the neighborhood of Quebec, may be 
reckoned at about " twenty sous and a good live capon" 
for each arpent of front, or eighty sous and four capons 
for a farm of not far from one hundred and thirty Eng- 
lish acres. The amount seems absurdly small, although 
money was worth nearly, or quite, five times as much as 
now. 

Aside from the rent the other obligations of the tenant 
do not appear to have been burdensome, and were doubt- 
less cheerfully met. The seigneurs as a rule lived among 
their tenants, and shared both good and evil fortunes with 
them. Until the latter part of the century it would seem 
that there was little good and much hard fortune for both. 

M. de Gaspe, in the " Canadians of Old," gives us an 
excellent idea of the relations of the tenants to the seign- 
eurs. It is a pity we have not more of the same kind of 



tHE FtUbAL SYSTEM. 103 

history and from an earlier date. That there was great 
mutual attachment and good will between them is certain, 
and we have no reason to think M. de Gaspe at all exag- 
gerates them. The planting of the May pole, which he 
describes, however, 1 am sorry to tind was not the spon- 
taneous offering of the people. 1 had supposed it was all 
done of their own free will ; but 1 find it was obligatory, 
imposed by their deeds of concession of lands. 

A book published in London in 1818 by Joseph Bou- 
chette, formerly Surveyor-General of Canada, gives a 
resume of the conditions of the concessions or perpetual 
leases, which I cannot do better than quote for those who 
would like to know more of this peculiar tenure. This 
book, now out of print, gives the dates of grants, names 
of grantees, and some remarks about each seigneury. It 
is interesting to notice how little was then known, even 
by its general surveyor, of the interior of the country, as 
well as the progress Canada has made " within the mem- 
ory of men still living." The writer of it was apparently 
born about the time of the Conquest and wrote toward 
the end of the second war between the United States and 
Great Britain. His confidence in the future of Canada is 
unbounded, and his loyalty to British institutions fully as 
great as that of his countrymen of today. His disparage- 
ment of the United States and all that belongs to them is 
mildly amusing. 

Mr. Bouchette says : 

At tlie time this country fell under the EngHsh government the 
feudal system universally prevailed in the tenure of lands, and 
still continues with respect to such as were then granted ; but the 
townships and tracts disposed of by the British administration have 
been granted in free and common socage, only two or three in- 
stances to the contrary being known. 

By the ancient custom of Canada lands were held immediately 
from the king en fief, or en roture, on condition of rendering fealty 



404 THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 

and homage on accession to the seigniorial property, and in the 
event of a transfer thereof by sale or otherwise, except in liereditary 
succession, it was subject to the payment of a quint, or the fifth of 
the whole purchase money, and which if paid by the purchaser im- 
mediately entitled him to the rehat, or a reduction of two-thirds of 
the quint. This custom still prevails. 

The tenanciers, or holders of lands en roture, are subject to some 
particular conditions, but they are not at all burdensome. For in- 
stance, they pay a small annual rent, usually between 2s. 6d. and 5s., 
(though in many seigniories the rents of the new concessions have 
been considerably increased,) to this is added some article of pro- 
vision, such as a couple of fowls, a goose, or a bushel of wheat, or 
something else of domestic consumption, and they are also bound 
to grind their corn at iht^moulin banal," or the seigneur's mill, 
where one-fourteenth part of it is taken for his use as moulure (or 
toll for grinding), to repair the highways and by-roads through 
their lands, and to make new ones, which when opened must be 
surveyed and approved by the grand voyeur of the district, and es- 
tablished by proces verbal. 

Lands are sometimes held by bail amphiteotique, or a long lease 
of 20, 30, 50, or any number of years, subject to a very small rent 
only. Franc alleu is a freehold, under which lands are exempt from 
all rights or duties to seigneurs, acknowledging no lord but the king. 
Cenctve is a feudal tenure, subject to an annual rent paid either in 
money or produce. 

The seigneurs, by the old laws that have not been repealed, are 
entitled to constitute courts and preside as judges therein, in what 
is denominated haute et basse justice, which takes cognizance of all 
crimes committed within their jurisdiction except murder and 
treason. This privilege has lain dormant ever since the Conquest 
nor is it probable that it will be revived as such ample provision is 
now made for the regular administration of the laws. 

The lods et ventes constitute a part of the seigneur's revenue. It 
is the right to a twelfth part of the purchase money of every estate 
within his seigniory that changes the owner by sale or other means 
equivalent to a sale. This twelfth is to be paid by the purchaser, 
and is exclusive of the sum agreed upon between him and the seller. 
For prompt payment of it a reduction of a fourth part is usually 
made. In cases of a sale of this nature the lord possesses the droit 
de retrait, which is the privilege of pre-emption at the highest bidden 



THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 105 

price within forty days after tiie sale lias tai<en place. It is, how- 
ever, a privilege but seldom exercised. 

All the fisheries within a seigniory contribute to increase the 
proprietor's revenue as he receives tithes of all the fish caught or an 
equivalent sum. Besides these rights he is privileged to fell timber 
anywhere within his seigniory for erecting mills, repairing roads or 
constructing new ones, or other works of public or general utility. 
Many proprietors of seigniories have become very wealthy from 
their revenues, as the sales and exchanges of estates have been of 
late years very numerous. 

Lands held by Roman Catholics under any of the aforementioned 
tenures are further subject to the payment to their curates of one- 
twenty-sixth part of all grain produced upon them, and to occa- 
sional assessments for building and repairing churches, parsonage 
houses, or other works belonging to the church. The remainder of 
the granted lands within the Province not held under any of these 
tenures are in free and common socage, from which a reservation of 
two-sevenths is made; one thereof is appropriated to the crown, 
and the other set apart for the maintenance and support of the prot- 
estant clergy. 

All these rights of the seigneurs, together with many 
other so-called rights that were unwritten, existing only 
through customs originating in the Middle Ages, or in the 
times when subjects were merely serfs, continued in force 
up to 1854, although few of their objectionable claims ever 
obtained much footing in this country. The rights of the 
seigneurs were so unfavorable to the prosperity of the 
Province that a commission was appointed in 1853 ^o Pre- 
pare a plan for their commutation. This commission was 
probably the most talented and distinguished body of men 
ever brought together in Canada, and the work done by it 
was a great one. The seigneurs were shorn of any unjust 
pretentions and recompensed for those legal rights of which 
it was thought best to deprive them. The tenant was al- 
lowed to commute his rental on reasonable terms and be- 
come actual proprietor, in fee simple, of his 'holdings. 



106 THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 

The arrangement was generally satisfactory to all. The 
far greater part of the conceded properties have been thus 
commuted ; but there are some that still pay the old rent 
— money, fowls, etc. Very few seigneuries now remain 
in the families of the original grantees ; perhaps not more 
than five or six in the Province. 

French kings had long endeavored to limit the powers 
of the nobles, and in New France all things conspired to 
prevent the exercise of unjust practices. In fact it does 
not appear that many Canadian seigneurs were disposed 
to make much use of such, although there were no doubt 
great differences among them in this respect. I have 
heard of one who, even in modern times, claimed that he 
had the first right to everything within the limits of his 
seigneury. 

Learning that 1 wished to know something more of the 
relations of seigneur and tenant, a friend placed in my 
hands a " Traite des Fiefs" in seven large volumes. It 
was published in Paris in 1749, and is a complete digest 
of all the laws, edicts and decisions concerning the matter 
down to that time. 

I found this treatise extremely curious and interesting, 
although bearing but slightly on feudalism in Canada. 
Scores of points that now seem to us utterly trifling and 
unimportant are treated in the most serious and minute 
manner. The long discussions and arguments help to 
show how poorly defined were the powers of the nobles 
in ancient times, in some parts of France written laws 
prevailed and in other parts ancient customs, some of them 
dating from the 10th century, formed the only law. On 
one point the author cites no less than seventy-five differ- 
ent customs. The "droit de corvee'' which in Canada 
was limited to the right of the seigneur to compel his ten- 
ants to work on roads or other works of public utility, 



THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 107 

and the right of "banalite," which in Canada was reduced 
to the obligation to bring all grain to the seigneurial mill 
to be ground, are carefully and exhaustively discussed. 

In France, a renewal of faith and homage which, as 
this author says " is the essence of a fief," was due from 
the seigneur to the sovereign at every change in the suc- 
cession on the one side or the other ; the noble must ac- 
knowledge allegiance to the monarch on his accession to 
the throne, as well as on his own succession to new rank. 
The tenant, always called " vassal " by this author, must 
olTer faith and homage to his seigneur upon every newly- 
acquired title on his own part, whether by purchase, in- 
heritance or otherwise. In Canada the seigneurs tendered 
faith and homage to the representative of the king on his 
arrival in the country, presenting at the same time decla- 
rations of titles. 

In Canada, the tenant was under no obligation to mill- 
tary service towards his seigneur, while in France he might 
be obliged, under one form of allegiance, to serve his 
master personally, at his own expense, as long as the war 
might last ; under another he would be bound to serve in 
the same manner for forty days. After that he might 
send a horseman in his place. 

The best short account of feudal customs in Canada 
that 1 know of is that given by Parkman in chap, xv of 
"The Old Regime in Canada." 

1 have in my possession a deed dated June 19th, 1694, 
conceding a lot of land of three arpents in front by forty 
in depth in consideration of twenty sous and one good 
live capon, or twenty sous for the value thereof at the 
pleasure of the seigneur, for each arpent of front, and one 
sous of ceiis, payable at the principal manor-house of the 
seigneury on St. Martin's day in each year so long as the 
grantee shall occupy the land. 



108 THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 

The tenant is to help to maintain such roads as may be 
deemed necessary for public use, " tenir feu et lieu " (live 
on the premises), bring his grain to the seigneur's mill 
to be ground, aid the other habitants to plant on the 
first day of May in each year a May pole in front of 
the principal door of the manor-house, and to pay to the 
seigneur one-fifteenth of all fish caught in the St. Law- 
rence in front of the land (he having the right to hunt and 
fish over and in front of it), * * * and to be " subject 
to cens et rentes carrying with them the lods et ventes 
according to the custom of Paris." 

The giving of this deed would seem to have been a vol- 
untary act on the part of the seigneur, for the grantee was 
not present when it was made, and the notary only ac- 
cepts it in his name " in case it should be agreeable to 
him." 

The rent and other charges were doubtless commuted 
under the act of 1854, and the owner now holds in fee 
simple, free from cens et rentes, lots et ventes, and all the 
rest of it. He can now get his grain ground where he 
likes and is free to eat all the fish he can catch. 

The front line of the lot described extended three ar- 
pents along the shore of the River St. Lawrence and its 
side lines were those that separated it from its neighbors, 
but its rear boundary was probably still in the primeval 
forest. 

When this deed was made, Quebec, although the seat 
of civil, military and religious government for the whole 
of Canada, was only a small station, and the entire popu- 
lation of the colony could not have exceeded 12,000 souls. 
(A census taken in 1681 made it 9,78L) 

Sturdy old Count Frontenac was Governor, Louis XIV 
was King of France, and William of Orange King of Eng- 
land, 



THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 109 

In that same year bands of treacherous savages and no 
less savage Canadians were murdering settlers all along 
the New England frontier. Parkman tells us all about 
it, and how at Durham, near Portsmouth, N. H., a hun- 
dred and four persons, mostly women and children, were 
tomahawked and scalped, and how a French officer says 
that his Indian allies intended to " divide up into par- 
ties of four or five and knock people on the head by sur- 
prise, which can not fail to have a good effect." 

This was the character of the warfare carried on by the 
French and Indians, aided, excited and continually encour- 
aged by priests and missionaries. 

Although many seigneuries had been granted along the 
River St. Lawrence and a considerable number of farms 
conceded, yet the number of habitants actually occupying 
their lands must have been very small. Many of them 
had been drafted into the militia and were serving on mil- 
itary expeditions, largely under the command of their 
seigneurs. Others, reckless, venturesome and impatient of 
all restraint, had taken to the woods in company with con- 
genial spirits from the ranks of the noblesse and became 
conreurs de hois, hunting, trading and fighting on their 
own account, defying control either of Church or State, 

The seigneurs were not as a rule men of wealth and 
their manor-houses were usually unpretentious, probably 
much of the character of a Canadian farm-house of good 
class of the present day, having one or two large rooms, 
while the chambers were small and low. In many cases 
the house, as well as stables, storehouses and workshops, 
was surrounded with palisades, and the whole arranged to 
serve as a place of refuge and defense from savages. A 
chapel was sometimes also within the enclosure when not 
included in the house itself. 

Some establishments, however, were of greater preten- 



110 THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 

tions, as for instance, that of the Seigneury of Longueil, 
which was built of stone, the whole enclosure covering a 
space of 170 by 270 feet. It was doubtless modelled after 
an old French chateau and by its extent and imposing ap- 
pearance gained for the seigneur the title of Baron. It 
was destroyed by fire before 1699, and a church was built 
on its site, and in part of the same materials, at about that 
date.* 

Some of the seigneuries were of great extent. That of 
Beaupre, granted in I636, contained 695,704 arpents, or 
about 900 square miles. 

The most valuable was that of the island of Montreal, 
a greater part of which was first granted in 1640 to two 
persons named Cherrier and Le Royer. Whether they 
disposed of it, or whether it was for some reason forfeited 
to the crown, there is no record to show. . It passed in 
1664 from the Sulpitians of Paris to the Seminary of St. 
Sulpice in Montreal, to which the titles were confirmed by 
the king in 1714, so that the Seminary became sole pro- 
prietor of that immensely valuable property. 

By the seigneurial act of 1854 the Society was obliged 
to accept commutation from such of its tenants as then 
demanded it. As regarded new concessions it was of 
course at liberty to make its own terms and conceded 
many lots of land subject to perpetual ground rents, but 
rarely sold any. Its property in the city and district of 
Montreal is therefore at the present time of almost un- 
known value. 

In and immediately around Quebec the policy of grant- 

*It is to be hoped that it was not alone the appearance of the 
mansion that brought its owner this distinction. The family well 
deserved the title by varied and valuable services. Mr. Parkman 
speaks of it as the most truly eminent in Canada. A brother of the 
baron was the founder of New Orleans. 



THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. Ill 

ing small fiefs or dependencies was instituted by the 
" Company of New France," and continued by successive 
governors — Montmagny, Frontenac and others. Its object 
was to favor compact settlement in times when the colony 
was weak and threatened by powerful enemies, i have 
been told that some of these fiefs were scarcely larger than 
good-sized house lots. 

The palisaded or otherwise fortified manor-houses 
served not infrequently as places of refuge and defense. 
The most notable incident of this kind was that of the 
holding of the fort of Vercheres (about 20 miles below 
Montreal on the south side of the St. Lawrence) by the 
young daughter of the seigneur. 

Outside the fort was a block -house, connected with it 
by a covered way. One morning late in October, 1692, 
the inhabitants were at work in the fields and some of the 
soldiers were out hunting at considerable distance. The 
seigneur and his wife were away. Only two soldiers, two 
boys, an old man of eighty years, and a number of women 
and children were left in the place. 

The seigneur's young daughter, Madeleine, aged fourteen 
years, was by the landing-place at the river with a hired 
man named Laviolette. Suddenly she heard firing from 
the direction of the workers in the fields, and directly after 
Laviolette cried out, " Run, madamoiselle, run ; here come 
the Iroquois ! " Turning, she saw forty or fifty of them 
at the distance of a pistol-shot, and ran as fast as she 
could towards the fort. The Indians, finding that they 
could not take her alive before she reached the gate, stop- 
ped and fired at her, but she ran on, with the bullets 
whistling about her. As soon as she was near enough to 
be heard she cried, ''To arms, to arms! " but the two sol- 
diers were so frightened that they hid themselves. She 
shut the gate and tried to think what she could do to save 



112 THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 

herself and the others. She found some of the palisades 
down and immediately ordered them to be replaced, she 
herself helping at the work. In the block -house she 
found the two soldiers, one of whom was just about to set 
a lighted match to the magazine to blow them all up. 
She sent him out of the place and by her spirit and reso- 
lution compelled obedience to her commands. 

With the help of the two soldiers, whose panic soon 
subsided, and of her two brothers, ten and twelve years 
old, she opened fire on the Indians, who, deceived as to 
the strength of the garrison, and reluctant as usual to 
attack a fortified place, turned to killing or making pris- 
oners of the people in the fields. 

During the day Madeleine continued to show a semblance 
of strength and at night kept up such a constant walch on 
the bastions that the Indians never suspected the weakness 
of the defense. For forty-eight hours the girl neither ate 
nor slept, but kept encouraging her little force with hopes 
of speedy relief. This state of alarm and anxiety contin- 
ued until at the end of a week a lieutenant, sent by M. de 
Callieres, arrived with forty men, and the brave girl sur- 
rendered her charge to him. He inspected the fort, found 
everything in order and a sentinel on each bastion. Then 
she told him that it was quite time to relieve them for 
they had not been off their posts for a week. 

In recognition of the bravery of this young heroine a 
pension for life was afterward granted her. A portion of 
the old fort is still standing. 



part D1[inr 



CHANGES IN TYPE 



CHANGES IN TYPE 



I HAVE often wished that 1 could see in print a full 
description of some of the interesting forms of civiliza- 
tion that were peculiar to Canada during the fifty years 
before and fifty years after the Conquest. There may be 
such accounts in existence, but 1 do not know where to 
find them in any collected form. It was a period of 
growth and transition, whose like could not exist under 
other conditions than those of the climate, races, and modes 
of life of the people of Canada, and the change from 
feudal to alien monarchical institutions. 

Some types that existed in the eighteenth century have 
become nearly, or quite, extinct in the nineteenth. There 
should be much of interest concerning them that exists 
only in obscure archives or survives only in tradition. 

All of the high military, and some of the highest civil, 
officials were of course immediately supplanted at the time 
of the Conquest by those of the new regime. All the 
remaining classes, the judges, lawyers, notaries, habitants, 
and others, have since undergone great changes. We can 
only note a few of them. 

Of the sturdy and adventurous canoeman and the hardy 
and resourceful carter the vocations have almost passed 
away. Steamboats have superseded the one and rail- 
roads the other on all the main lines of travel. 

In the seventeenth century canoeing was almost the 
only mode of travel. Soldiers, priests, traders, coureurs 
lie hois, and the noted explorers of that time were accus- 
tomed to start from Quebec, for the regions of the Great 



il6 



Changes In type. 



Lakes and far be}'ond, in bark canoes, carrying little pro- 
vision and relying mainly on game and fish for subsistence. 
We can form little idea of the dangers and hardships which 
they experienced. 




In later times (and there are a few old residents still liv- 
ing who can tell of them), companies of twenty, thirty, or 
forty loaded canoes would often start together for the 
lumbering regions of the Upper Ottawa or St. Maurice 
rivers, the crews all singing " En Roulant Ma Boule," or 
some similar refrain, keeping time with the strokes of 
their paddles. The canoemen were portageurs, too, in 
those days, such as we seldom see now. Their merchan- 
dise and provisions were ordinarily packed in bales of one 
hundred pounds each, of which each man took two as his 
regular load on the portages and a third when necessary. 
A not very unusual load was a barrel of pork, to be carried 
over roads that were only rocky foot-paths, obstructed 
by fallen timber and traversed by streams that had to be 
crossed on logs or fallen trees. There are plenty of men 
strong enough, but men inured to such work are scarce 
in our day. In the north, away up in the Hudson 



Changes in type. 



il; 




A Huron Chief. 



Bay Company's territory, canoeing" and portaging are 
still done, but the friend to whom 1 have referred on page 
19 says that the Indians and half- 
breeds of that region carry no such 
loads. 

If you meet with one of these old 
residents you will not find it dil^icult 
to arouse his enthusiasm and start 
him on a flood of reminiscences that 
will interest you as much as they do 
him. 

Those of my readers who have 
crossed the St. Lawrence in canoes 
amongst floating ice still have vivid recollections of the 
perils of the passage, although the canoes were made of 
wood and not of the frail bark used by summer voya- 
geurs on inland waters. If accidents were rare, exemp- 
tion from them was due not to lack of danger, but to the 
skill of the boatmen. Not many will regret that steam 
has generally supplanted humanity in that particular direc- 
tion, however much delight we may take in seeing human 
brain and muscle overcome obstacles. 

The carter of old, like the canoeman, has nearly dis- 
appeared. Railroads have so penetrated the country that 
winter drives of two, three, or more days are no longer 
common incidents. A journey that 1 have often made 
in winter, sometimes in four hours when the roads were 
good and my veteran carter, Trudel, drove his slashing 
tandem, or that occupied two or three days if a heavy 
snow-storm came up, or if the roads were bad and 1 had a 
country carter, 1 now do by rail in little over an hour. But 
the old journey was interesting. If there were fatigue and 
hardship, there was also pleasure. The new conveyance is 
safe and comfortable, but dull and commonplace. That it 



118 



CHANGES IN TYPE. 



is preferable we all admit, but there are, some of 'us yet 
left who occasionally meet and talk over the evenings we 
have spent storm -bound at certain places en route, and 
speak of the many who have gone over to the majority, 
with something of regret for the old days, like old people 
everywhere. 

The canoeman and the carter of old have almost dis- 
appeared ; but the seigneur of old is more completely 
gone than either. He was a picturesque and conspicuous 
figure in Canadian life. 

Although the first seigneurs were nobles, yet attempts 
to establish a permanent Canadian nobility failed. The 
country was too poor. While a few of the seigneurs 
attempted for a time to maintain style and dignity corres- 
ponding to their rank, their revenues were insufficient, ow- 
ing to the sparseness of the population.* Others, lower in 
the social scale, of whom there was a considerable number, 
could not make much effort in that direction. Although 
landlords with large estates, their poverty obliged them to 
become in some measure habitants, sometimes traders. 
Some of the first and many of 
the second generation of these 
yielded to the fascinations of the 
wild, free, and adventurous life of 
the cotireur de bois. Others be- 
came explorers, and helped to dis- 
cover and make known the great 
rivers of the west, and to found 
trading-posts that have since be- 
come great cities. But almost ev- 
p^re Marquette. ery seigneur was a soldier, or ready 




*In 1712 ninety-one seigneuries had been granted in a population 
not exceeding fifty thousand souls. 



Changes in type. 



119 



to become one ; his tastes and traditions led him to a 
soldier's life. 

When the Governor of the colony called out Canadian 
militia, the seigneurs took the field at the head of their 
tenants. Both officers and men had become skilled in 
Indian modes of warfare, which were more to surprise and 
murder their enemy than to fight him. 

1 think we may suppose that those of the habitants who 
had settled on and begun to cultivate some land served 
only under the officers regularly appointed over them and 
on regularly organized expeditions ; and that only adven- 
turers and outlaws formed the nucleus of the savage hordes 
that devastated the borders of New England, although led 
by younger members of the Cana- 
dian noblesse of no less savage 
disposition. 

In the intervals of comparative 
peace the seigneurs devoted them- 
selves to the cultivation of their 
lands, and carried on more or less 
trading without materially better- 
ing their condition, until again 
called out en masse to defend their 
La Corne de St. Luce. country 
against the English, half a cen- 
tury later. After the Conquest 
many of them returned to France, 
while others settled down on their 
estates and became simple coun- 
try gentlemen, prospering greatly 
with the improved condition of 
the country and the rapidly in- 
creasing population. 

From some of these families 
have sprung men who have dis- M. Chartier de Lotbini^re. 





120 



CHANGES In Type. 




One of the last of the Old 
School. 



tinguished themselves in various lines of life in the later 
history of Canada ; but many families have become ex- 
tiKct, or have merged into the mass of the people. 

As other classes have changed, so have judges, lawyers, 
and notaries. Of the first two 1 know little except through 
tradition and anecdote, but of 
some of the notaries of the old 
school my recollection is so clear 
that I cannot help noticing the 
difference. 1 distinctly remember 
one of the last of these, a man 
of the same pattern as those we 
read of as the depositary of fam- 
ily secrets, the one without whose 
knowledge and assistance no busi- 
ness of any consequence could be 
properly transacted. In looks, 
dress, manners, and habits, he was the real old French 
notary. 

The notaries of Canada are a large and respectable class. 
That they form a useful class in a community where so 
many can neither read nor write it is needless to say, and 
to business men in general they are a great convenience. 
A considerable knowledge of legal forms is necessary to 
the profession, and a notarial document is not easy to dis- 
pute in courts of law. Wills, contracts, deeds, settlements, 
and agreements of all kinds are made by them, and, as a 
rule, well made. 1 have sometimes thought that the nature 
of the notaries' profession tended to encourage personal 
truth and honesty. Breaches of trust and unfair dealings 
of any kind are rare among them, and secrets or private 
matters are generally safe in their hands. 

The younger notaries of the present time have a less re- 
gard for their profession, than their ancestors and are more 



CHANGES IN TYPE. 121 

ready to abandon it for office, or the chances of political life. 

The priest, by education and training inclined to be 
most conservative, is not altogether what he was. It was 
not that he wanted to change, but he found that he must 
adapt himself more or less to the forces that would move 
the world whether he liked it or no. In some things he 
has given way and gone forward ; in others he still refuses 
to move. 1 can see changes that 1 cannot describe. 

The habitant has changed with the others. He has 
been slow to move, but has lost something of his conserv- 
atism. He does not now invariably wear gray homespun, 
although 1 would not say that he does not prefer it. I am 
inclined to think that his wearing of factory -made goods 
comes about not through any vanity of his own, but be- 
cause his wife and daughters find more profitable employ- 
ment than the slow and tedious processes of spinning 
and weaving by hand. The daughters may have been 
obliged — some of them — to go to the States for this em- 
ployment, but they have found it nevertheless, and too 
few are left at home to turn spinning wheels enough for 
all their needs. In many other ways also the demand for 
female labor has increased. Thirty years ago a seamstress 
was glad to work for twenty cents a day, whereas now 
she wants fifty. This instances only one of the many 
forces that compelled the habitant to abandon some of his 
inherited customs. Giving them up has been a slow and 
painful process to men with little or no education or ambi- 
tion and strongly bound by tradition, but they have not 
entirely withstood the advance of civilization. 

Emigration of the habitant class within the last twenty- 
five years has been enormous, and still goes on, although 
fluctuating from year to year according to the condition of 
business. There is scarcely a family in our vicinity from 
which some immediate member has not " monte dans les 



122 CHANGES IN TYPE. 

Etats " (gone up into the States). Whole families have 
been accustomed to go and return almost annually. A 
good many of them find their way back and remain at 
home ; for even if they obtain constant and remunerative 
employment the civilization of "the States" does not 
always suit them, and they long for their own rivers and 
forests, their familiar speech, their churches, and their 
inherited customs. Then, although they earn much more 
in the States, they are obliged to work much harder and 
more steadily than at home ; and it is not every one that 
likes hard work, even if well paid. A man who lately 
returned, when asked why he came back when he was 
doing so well, replied, '' Je m'ennuyais du pays" (I was 
tired of the country). He had nothing to complain of, 
but he was homesick. The busy, earnest life of the States 
does not please the majority of French Canadians. 

Within a few years, however, so many have decided to 
remain and make the States their home that there are now 
about two-thirds as many Canadians in the States as in 
Canada, and the regularly migrating contingent has pro- 
portionately diminished. 

Although the most of these Canadians make very good 
American citizens, and some have risen to posts of honor 
and responsibility, yet I cannot say that my Canadian 
friends in their own country show much of the public 
spirit of New Englanders and the people of the Northern 
States generally. In all such matters as roads, bridges, 
drainage, sidewalks, and similar works for the public good 
they are far behind their American neighbors. This, I 
imagine, is largely attributable to the inherited habit of 
depending entirely on the Government for all matters of 
the kind. In the old times the people had no voice what- 
ever in public affairs, and since they have had control of 
their local concerns they have not risen to any wide con- 



CHANGES IN TYPE. 123 

sideration of the general welfare. Another reason is the 
comparative poverty of the people. The habitant has as 
a rule but little ready money, and it goes terribly against 
the grain to pay out anything for taxes, although he 
knows he will receive an almost immediate advantage 
from them. He has very little notion of doing or sacri- 
ficing anything for the general good, even while he shares 
in it. For example, the law requires every land-owner to 
keep the road in front of his property in order. In the 
villages where the houses are close together, the roads may 
be quite good, but outside of these they are liable to be as 
bad as they can be without being dangerous. They must 
inconvenience him very seriously before he will repair 
them. 

Still another reason, and one that is especially demor- 
alizing, is that the Government has been in the habit 
of making grants for roads, bridges, etc., for the purpose 
of political effect. Such practices are not at all unknown 
on the other side of the line, but they are more effectual 
in a small country than in a large one, and it is easier to 
see their workings. The supposed ability of a candidate 
for office to obtain grants for local purposes is a prime, 
and often the chief, factor in his popularity. 

The average habitant voter has no political opinions 
worth the name. His vote depends on personal prejudices 
or private interests more than anything else. His talk on 
political matters mainly consists of abuse of the men of 
the opposite party. He has no principles as to public 
policy behind it, nor is he very sensitive to the wrong- 
doings or short-comings of his own party leaders. He 
will tell you that he has no great confidence in any of the 
leaders, but that there are some that he considers a little 
worse than the others. A priest from a back country 
parish I think expressed the feelings of the habitants quite 



124 CHANGES IN TYPE. 

well when he said recently to a person supposed to have 
some influence with the Government, " My people don't 
care anything about the school question or the tariff or 
reciprocity or any of those things. What we want is 
three mails a week, and if we don't get them your party 
will not have a single vote in my parish at the next 
elections." 

I heard that the man that I employed to work in the 
garden and do chores about the house, although not a 
voter, was a great political worker, and one day I thought 
I would chaff him a little. He admitted that he was accus- 
tomed to work for one of the parties, but that if 1 pre- 
ferred that he should work for the other or not work at 
all he would do as I wished. 1 told him I did not care 
which party he worked for, which relieved his mind, for 
he said he was a poor man and wanted to earn what he 
could ; and as he had worked for a long time for one 
party and always been well paid, he would like to con- 
tinue to do so. 

A certain amount of real property or its equivalent in 
the payment of rental or in the possession of fixed revenue 
is a necessary qualification for voters in this Province. 
The amount is small, but sufficient to exclude the votes of 
the utterly irresponsible. 

Elections are conducted much more peaceably now than 
they were thirty years ago. 1 remember the time when 
gangs of roughs were engaged to go from place to place 
to see that votes for their employers were protected, and 
that others were not. 

A man, now a carter, whom I occasionally employ, 
frankly regrets the time when his 185 pounds avoirdu- 
pois, his activity and considerable knowledge of "the 
manly art," were potent factors in election contests. In 
those days his services were sure to be retained by some- 



CHANGES IN TYPE. i2S 

body. Money seems to have taken the place of force, for 
1 remember that out of 72 members returned as elected to 
Parliament at an election not very long ago, some 30 were 
unseated for bribery or " corrupt practices." 

Great hopes are entertained of benefit from laws re- 
cently enacted regarding the purity of elections, and it is 
believed that some improvement has already taken place. 
Cases of contested elections in this country are tried by 
the courts, which is perhaps an improvement on the Amer- 
ican plan. 

Speaking of election or other tights, there are few French 
Canadians who have much pugilistic science. Their strong 
point is the rough-and-tumble scrimmage, where strength 
is of more account than science, in this kind of fighting 
the Canadian is no mean adversary. His power lies in 
his back, legs, and shoulders, and this he is always ready to 
exert. Indeed 1 very often get out of patience with the 
men because when they have a very heavy load to move 
they will not use the simplest mechanical contrivances, 
such as skids, levers, or rollers. They merely take hold 
and lift. It is harder, and in the end usually takes more 
time ; but that is their fashion, and they will not bother 
with any other if they can avoid it. At the same time 
they arrange things with a good deal of ingenuity when it 
is really necessary. 



10 



part 1If 
CHANSONS CANADIENNES 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES 



Or loIk-loiL' as licMUMally iiiulcistoiKl, in the wayot local 
leiic'iuls, I have found little, but the cotilcs and the popular 
souiis, ot" which there is a very larjie number, propeiix' be- 
louii to this catciiory. (Comparatively) Hew ot them have 
ever been printed in this country, but both words and music 
have come down by tradition. All ot them (possibly 
with very rare exceptions) come tiom France, and few 
seem to have oriijinated later than the \^\\\ or l()ih cen- 
turies. The airs are generally on a scale not now in use, 
and some of them are impossible to harmonize on correct 
musical principles without material chansie in the melody. 

Partly from personal notation and partly throuijh the 
courtesy of Mr. tfrnest Ciaiiuon oi (^Hiebec, who has made 
in his " Chansons Populaires " the largest collection that 
has yet been published, and to whom 1 acknowledge my 
indebtedness, I am able to give a few songs merely as 
specimens of hundreds of others. 1 have not attempted to 
select the best, but rather the most popular, or at all events 
those most familiar to me. On the same principle I give 
the words of some not always precisely as they may have 
been printed, but as 1 have been accustomed to hear them. 
Dillerent persons rarely sing them precisely alike. Mr. 
Gagnon, in a note to me, puts this truly and concisely 
by saying that " in the matter of popular songs there are 
as many variations as there are throats." 

" A la Claire Fontaine" is known and sung by every 
one. " On n'est pas Qiiuhlicu Siins (VA/," says Mr. 
Gagnon. (One is not a Canadian without that.) " Par 



130 CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 

Derri^re Chez Mon Pere " is not less familiar. A version 
of this under the title " Vive la Canadienne " is played 
at concerts and the like in connection with " God Save 
the Queen " as the finale de rigeiir, as sometimes also is 
•' A la Claire Fontaine." 

To the song " Mon Canard Blanc " or " Derri^re Chez 
Nous Ya-t-un etang " various choruses are sung. The most 
popular is that lively and vigorous one, " En Roulant Ma 
Boule," known to every Canadian. 

Another very taking chorus is the one, " C'est L'aviron 
Qui Nous Mene Qui Nous Monte." Widely known as it 
is, 1 could not find it in print, and was obliged to appeal to 
an old habitant for a correct version. When asked if he 
knew it he promptly replied that he knew that and two 
hundred and tlfty others, and was with diificulty restrained 
from singing them all. 

With other songs 1 include " Malbrouck S'en Va-t-en 
Guerre," not because it is very old, but because in one of 
its many versions it is so often heard. One of them is 
precisely the familiar air of " We Won't Go Home Till 
Morning," and another has been made famous by 
" Trilby." Neither of these, however, is the one most 
generally used. 

The air of " Vive Napoleon" is very ancient and has 
undergone many changes. " Vive Napoleon " has been 
substituted for " Vive la Roi." The Canadians sing "Vive 
la Roi de la Reine," thus avoiding, says Mr. Gagnon, "the 
hiatus that would occur in singing ' le roi et la reine.' " 

" Isabeau S'y Promene " is extremely quaint and pleas- 
ing. 

If any person who has some, even a very slight, acquaint- 
ance with French and music, will take a little pains to no- 
tice how the words and music go together, and see with 
what vigor and swing they move, and the peculiar inter- 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 131 

vals, he will, unless by chance he should already have 
heard the son<js in their native or chosen habitat, find that a 
new source of enjoyment has been opened to him. To 
those who have not much knowledge of the subject it may 
be well to say that there need be no hesitation about 
strongly bringing out the final e when needed to till out 
the measure when it would be mute in speech or prose. 
For example, in the chorus " Vole, Mon Coeur, Vole," Vole 
is used as a word of two syllables. In " A la Claire Fon- 
taine" the tinal es have separate notes. Something of this, 
as is well known, is usual in all French music, but it is nat- 
urally more conspicuous in popular songs than in others. 

Noise is of course a great factor in these songs, and the 
airs are pitched very high. There is no attempt at part 
singing. The voices are assumed to be in unison, though 
we must confess that they sometimes fail to hit the mark. 

Doubtless the most enjoyable circumstances under which 
these songs can be given are those under which I have 
oftenest heard them — on canoeing voyages and around 
camp-fires. When two or more canoes are together on 
some quiet water, nothing is more delightful than to hear 
a voice from one of them start one of these songs, sing- 
ing perhaps a couple of lines, which are repeated in cho- 
rus. Then may come more lines similarly echoed, and 
so on, the chorus forming by far the most important part 
of the performance. If the journey is a leisurely one, the 
song will very likely be " Isabeau S'y Promene," but if 
there is occasion for haste it will be " Derriere Chez Nous 
Ya-t-un etang," with the ringing chorus, " En Roulant 
Ma Boule." Around camp-fires the songs are not less 
fascinating than in the canoes. Perhaps this is owing 
somewhat to the state of mind of the listeners. It is some- 
times surprising how feeble the strongest intellect will 
show itself to be when, after a day tilled with varied out- 



132 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 



of-door pleasures, a man has eaten a supper that aston- 
ishes him, fallen back on a bed of branches, and stretched 
his feet out toward a cheerful blaze. 

We once had a considerable party of staid and dignified 
college professors. After a round of Canadian songs, these 
serious minded gentlemen stood up and sang " Johnny 
Schmoker," " Was Macht der Herr Papa," and a lot more 
of the college songs of thirty or forty years ago ! It was 
a pleasure to see these earnest scholars recalling their soph- 
omore days, joining hands and singing " Gaudeamus 
Igitur" with all the enthusiasm of youth. 

Another time when we camped in a pouring rain which 
dampened their clothes but not their spirits, two young 
ladies amused themselves by concocting arid singing such 
stutT as this : 

Hark, the rain is falling down, 

Hear it splosh, hear it splosh ! 
It will make our denim gowns 

Ready for the wash. 

* 
Hear one happy maiden cry 

" Is it we ? Is it we ? " 
Hear the other's quick reply, 

" I do hope it be." 






^ p ^izj^— J 



3 



f 



m 



M » C 



5J 



w 



But this has nothing to do with the real programme. 
The usual " numbers " were such as the following : — 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 



133 



A la Claire Fontaine. 




M h s ^ 



JJjTj 



Kt — N 



wtzZM 



m ^ m 



A la clai- re fon-tai-ne M'eii al- lant pro-me- ner, 



k p ,r^ IJ'.T f J- 1 r f J" I J^h 



J'ai trou-ve I'eau si bel- le Que je m'y suis baigne. 

CH0RU5 




» — ^L^ w ^ J* m W^ — w ^ ^ ■ 



Lui yz long-temps que je t'aime, Jamais je ne t'oublierai. 



A la Claire fontaine 
M'en allant promener, 
J'ai trouve I'eau si belle 
Que je m'y suis baigne. 
*Lui ya longtemps que je t'aime. 
Jamais je ne t'oublierai. 

J'ai trouve' I'eau si belle 
Que je m'y suis baigne ; 
Sous les feuilles d'un cliene 
Je me suis fait secher. 
Lui ya longtemps, etc. 

Sous les feuilles d'un chene 
Je me suis fait secher; 
Sur la plus haute branche 
Le rossignol chantait. 
Lui ya longtemps, etc. 

Sur la plus haute branche 
Le rossignol chantait. 



* " I,ui ya," old form for "Il-y-a.' 



134 CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 

Chante, rossignol, chante, 
Toi qui as le coeur gai. 
Liii ya longtemps, etc. 

Chante, rossignol, chante, 
Toi qui as le ccEur gai ; 
Tu as ie coeur ^ rire, 
Moi je i'ai-t-a pleurer. 
Lui ya longtemps, etc. 

Tu as le cceur a rire, 
Moi je I'ai-t-a pleurer; 
J'ai perdu ma maitresse 
Sans I'avoir merite. 
Lui ya longtemps, etc. 

J'ai perdu ma maitresse 
Sans I'avoir merite, 
Pour un bouquet de roses 
Que je lui refusal. 
Lui ya longtemps, etc. 

Pour un bouquet de roses 
Que je lui refusal. 
Je voudrais que la rose 
Flit encore au rosier. 
Lui ya longtemps, etc. 

Je voudrais que la rose 
Flit encore au rosier, 
Je voudrais que le rosier 
Fut a la mer jete. 

Lui ya longtemps, etc. 

Je voudrais que le rosier 
Fut a la mer jete; 
Je voudrais que la belle 
Fut encore a m'aimer. 
Lui ya longtemps, etc. 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 



135 



En Roiilant Ma Boiile. 



ist time solo. Energico. 



l|,„f | ' N J i j J J I, ' .^±^fg^ 



En rou- lant ma bou - le rou - lant, En rou-lant ma bou - le. 




J J'J M > I | J J* J 



9 m 



ber - ri^r' chez nous ya t'un e - tang- En rou - lant ma bou - le 



fc pir F 



^ 



B 



M=H 



^^ 



Trois beaux can-aids s'en vont baignant, rou - li, rou-lant, ma bou-ie rou - lant. 



Trois beaux canards s'en vont baignant, 

En roulant ma boule, 
Le tils dii roi s'en va chassant, 
Rouli, roulant, ma boiile roulant. — Ref. 

Le tils du roi s'en va chassant, 

En roulant ma boule, 
Avec son grand fusil d'argent, 
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref. 

Avec Son grand fusil d'argent, 

En roulant ma boule. 
Visa le noir, tua le blanc, 
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref. 

Visa le noir, tua le blanc, 
En roulant ma boule, 
O tils du roi, tu es me'chant ! 
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref. 

O tils du roi, tu es mechant ! 

En roulant ma boule, 
D'avoir tue mon canard blanc, 
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref. 



136 CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 

D'avoir tue mon canard blanc, 

En roulant ma boule, 
Par dessous I'aile il perd son sang, 
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref. 

Par dessous I'aile il perd son sang', 

En roulant ma boule. 
Par les yeux lui sort'nt des diamants, 
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref. 

Par les yeux lui sort'nt des diamants. 

En roulant ma boule, 
Et par le bee I'or et I'argent, 
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref. 

Et par ie bee Tor et I'argent, 

En roulant ma boule, 
Toutes ses plum's s'en vont au vent, 
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref. 

Toutes ses plum's s'en vont au vent. 

En roulant ma boule, 
Trois dam's s'en vont les ramassant, 
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref. 

Trois dam's s'en vont les ramassant, 

En roulant ma boule. 
Cast pour en faire un lit de camp, 
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant. — Ref. 

C'est pour en faire un lit de camp. 

En roulant ma boule. 
Pour y coucher tous les passants, 
Rouli, roulant, ma boule roulant.— Ref. 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 



137 



Par Derrier' Chez Mon Pere. 

Sung first as a solo, then as a chorus. 



^^ 



"^ s 



^s 



Par derrier' chez mon pe- re, Vo- le, mon coeur, 



tKa-ti. i i'g'/nu^JM^ 



vo- le. Par derrii^r' chez mon p^- re, Lui ya-t-un pommier 



^^=TRf 



^ 



"W^^ 



V^^f=^ 



^ 



doux. 



Lui ya-t-un pommier doux, tout doux, Lui 




^ 



W- 



ya t-un pom- mier doux. D-C 



Par derrier' chez mon pere. 

Vole, mon cueur, vole. 

Par derri&r' chez mon pere 

Lui ya-t-un pommier doux. 

Lui ya-t-un pommier doux, tout doux, 

Lui ya-t-un pommier doux. 

Les feuilles en sont vertes, 

Vole, mon coeur, vole, 

Les feuilles en sont vertes 

Et le fruit en est doux. 

Et le fruit en est doux, tout doux, 

Et le fruit en est doux. 

Trois filles d'un prince. 
Vole, mon coeur, vole, 



138 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 



Trois filles d'lm prince 

Sont endormies dessoiis. 

Sont endormies dessous, tout doux, 

Sont endormies dessous. 

La plus jeun' se reveille, 

Vole, mon coeur, vole, 

La plus jeun' se reveille: 

— Ma scEur, voilk le jour. 

Ma soeur, volljl le jour, tout doux. 

Ma soeur, voil^ le jour. 

-Non, ce n'est qu'une etoiie, 
Vole, mon coeur, vole, 
Non, ce n'est qu'une etoiie 
Qu' ^Claire nos amours. 
Qu'eclaire nos amours, tout doux, 
Qu'eclaire nos amours. 




^: 



C'est I'Aviron Qui Nous Mene. 



^Jj \X^ J' _^T * L*^I 



4. I I »— F«^ 



W 



^ 



C'est I'a-vi-ron qui nous mene, qui nous monte, C'est I'a-vi-ron qui nous 

J^ 



^ 



ifc± 



monte en haut. 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 



139 



Isabeaii s'y Promene. 



Solo first time to sign, then repeated by chorus. 

Also from sign first time solo, then repeated by the chorus. 



y^>S( j> I J- "^ ^ 



1- - sa- beau s'y pro- m^- ne 



f j^j'J'j^^^iiMtj^m^rc^ 



Le long de son jar- din. 



Le long de son jar-din, Sur le 



rFiir~fJ-iH>^/,r i ^,rr.g'^-^ 



±E 



bold de I'i- - le. 



Le long de son jar-din, Sur le 



6k 



^ 



^ J^ • ^ 



bord de I'eau, Sur le bord du vais-seau. 



Elle s'aper^oit d'une barque 
De trente niatelots. 
De trente matelots 
Sur le bord de I'ile, etc 

Le plus jeune des trente, 
Composait une chanson. 
Composait une chanson 
Sur le bord de I'lle, etc. 



— La chanson que tu chantes, 
Je voiidrais la savoir. 
Je voudrais la savoir 
Sur le bord de I'ile, etc. 



140 CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 

— Embarque dans ma barque, 
Je te la chanterai. 
Je te la chanterai 
Sur le bord de Tile, etc. 

Quand ell' fut dans la barque, 
Ell' se mit a pleurer. 
Eir se mit a pleurer 
Sur le bord de File, etc. 

— Qu'avez-vous done la belle, 
Qu'a-vous a tant pleurer ? 
Qu'a-vous a tant pleurer 
Sur le bord de I'ile, etc. 

— Je pleur' mon anneau d'ore, 
Dans I'eau-z-il est tombe. 
Dans I'eau-z-il est tombe 
Sur le bord de I'iie, etc. 

— Ne pleurez point la belle, 
Je vous le plongerai. 
Je vous le plongerai 
Sur le bord de I'ile, etc. 

De la premiere plonge, 
II n'a rien ramene. 
II n'a rien ramene 
Sur le bord de I'ile, etc. 

De la seconde plonge 
L'anneau-z-a voltige. 
L'anneau-z-a voltige 
Sur le bord de I'ile, etc. 

De la troisi^me plonge 

Le galant s'est noye. 

Le galant s'est noye 
Sur le bord de I'ile, 

Le galant s'est noy^ 
Sur le bord de I'eau, 
Sur le bord du vaisseau. 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 



141 



Alouette. 



f^ratb. tnf 




JJ l J ^jii-^J 






A - lou- et - te, gen-tille A- lou-et - te, A - lou- et - te, je te plu-me-rai, 



ii Chorus, 



^^:^[:^m\rr . 



m 



Wv 



Je te plu-merai la tete, je te plu-merai la tete, et la tete. et la tete, O. 



^ 



1^ 



J ^un> 



^ 



¥^=* 



•oi"»- 



A - lou - et - te, gentiile A-lou-et - te, A - lou- et - te, je te plu-me-rai. 

Alouette, gentiile Alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai, 
Je te plumerai le bee, je te plumerai le bee, 
Et le bee, et le bee, et la tete, et la tete. — O, &e. 

Alouette, gentiile Alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai, 
Je te plumerai le nez, je te plumerai le nez, 
Et le nez, et le nez, et le bee, et le bee, 
Et la tete, et la tete.— O, &c. 

Alouette, gentiile Alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai, 

Je te plumerai le dos, je te plumerai le dos, 

Et le dos, et le dos, et le nez, et le nez, 

Et le bee, et le bee, et la tete, et la tete. — 0, &e. 

Alouette, gentiile Alouette, Alouette, jete plumerai, 
Je te plumerai les pattes, je te plumerai les pattes, 
Et les pattes, et les pattes, et le dos, et le dos, 
Et le nez, et le nez, et le bee, et le bee, 
Et la tete, et la tete.— O, &e. 

Alouette, gentiile Alouette, Alouette, je te plumerai, 

Je te plumerai le eou, je te plumerai le cou, 

Et le cou, et le eou, et les pattes, et les pattes, 

Et le dos, et le dos, et le nez, et le nez, 

Et le bee, et le bee, et la tete, et la tete.— 0, &e. 



* Repeat this bar once for 2d verse, twice for 3d verse, etc. 



142 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 

MalbroLick. 



/}((«^retto 



^ 



:6=l»i 



P 



^ 



3 



Mal-brouck s'en va-t- en guer - - re, 



t 



Ri too tra la, ri 



^ 



gr ^T rr 



0^ * — C 



' *^ g 



too tra la. Malbrouck s'en va-t- en guer - - re. 
ti^^i^S;^ .Chords, d-t«wipo. y\ a 



Ne salt quand re-vien- 



J^=^ 



I 1^ P ^ f * * T '\~f^ P ^ P-l f^ * P fc f ^ I *^ — w 



^ 



dra, la bas, Cou- rez, cou - rez, cou - rez ! Pe - ti - te fill' jeiine et gen- 

AAA . t^ ^ 






E2 



'il - le. Cou-rez, cou- rez, cou- rez! Ven - ez ce soir vous a - mu - ser. 



I reviendra-z-a Paques, 
Ri too tra la, etc., 

II reviendra-z-a Paques, 
Ou ^ la Trinite', la bas. 

La Trinite' ce passe, 
Ri too tra la, etc.. 
La Trinite ce passe, 
Malbrouck ne revient pas, la bas. 

Madame a sa tour monte, 

Ri too tra la, etc., 
Madame ^ sa tour monte. 
Si haut qu'eir peut monter, la bas. 

Elle apergoit son page, 

Ri too tra la, etc., 
Elle apergoit son page, 
Tout de noir habille, la bas, 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 



143 



•' Beau page, ah ! mon beau page, 
Quell' nouvelle apportez? " 

" Aux nouvell's que j'apporte, 
Vos beaux yeux vont pleurer. 

"Quittezvos habits roses, 
Et vos satins broche's. 

" Monsieur Malbrouck est mort, 
Est mort et enterre. 

" JM'ai vu porter en terre, 
Par quatre-z-ofticiers." 



C'est la belle Fran^oise. 



jhnrh-ci r^f'^^ 



C'est la bel - le Fran- ^oise, Ion, gai, C'est la belle Fran- 



^ 



f 



^ 



^ 



r^,n h 



*=s 



qoi . se Qui veut s'y ma-ri. er, ma hi. roii. In. ret . te. 



i 



fc± 



^ 



p^- j. i j^ "^ FrrH IN 



Qui veut s'y ma- ri- er, ma hi- rbn, lu- re. 

Son amant va la voire, Ion, gai. 

Son amant va la voire 

Bien tard, apr^s souper, ma luron, lurette, 

Bien tard, apres souper, ma luron, lure. 

11 la trouva seulette, Ion, gai, 

II la trouva seulette 

Sur son lit, qui pleurait, ma luron, lurette, 

Sur son lit, qui pleurait, nia luron, lure, 



144 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 



^ 



Mon Merle a Perdu Son Bee. 



?^ 



^ i tf^m t 



ft 



m \4 



Mon merle a perdu sou bee, Mon merle a perdu sou bee. Un bee deux bees Ah O 

sa tete une tete deux tetes, 

r7\ 



n^wH^i. 



^ 



Que me vas tu chanter, O que me vas tu chanter ? 



Mon merle a perdu sa tete, 
Mon merle a perdu sa tete. 
Une tete, deux tetes, un bee, deux bees. Ah, 0, etc. 

Mon Merle a perdu un ceil, 

Mon Merle a perdu un ceil. 

Un ceil, deux yeux, une tete, deux tetes, 

Un bee, deux bees. Ah, O, ete. 

Mon merle a perdu son eou, 

Mon merle a perdu son cou. 

Un cou, deux cous, un oeil, deux yeux, 

Une tete, deux tetes, un bee, deux bees, Ah, 0, etc. 

Mon merle a perdu son dos, 

Mon merle a perdu son dos. 

Un dos, deux dos, un cou, deux cous, 

Un oeil, deux yeux, une tete, deux tites, 

Un bee, deux bees, Ah, O, ete. 

Mon merle a perdu une patte, 

Mon merle a perdu une patte. 

Une patte, deux pattes, un dos, deux dos, 

Un cou, deux cous, un oeil, deux yeux, 

Une tete, deux tetes, un bee, deux bees, Ah, 0, ete. 



* Repeat this bar once for 2d verse, twice for 3d verse, etc. 



CHANSONS CANADIENNES. 



US 



Vive Napoleon. 



Sung first as a solo to sign, then repeated as chorus. 
From sign, sung first as a solo, then repeated as chorus. 



^^ 



m 



r^irg 



Quand j'e'-tais chez mon pe- re, Gai, vi- ve le 






roi! Quand j'e'-tais chez mon p^- re, Gai, vi- ve le 



e£ 



^: 



Tgf'^f — 



ie^ 



F-'firciCfFtf 



f 



Pe- ti- te Jean- ne- ton, vi- ve le 



^ roi de la rei- ne. Pe- ti- te Jeanne- ton, 



^ 




-» 



:^^^-.^f. 



Vi- ve Na- po- le- on ! 



M'envoi'-t-a la fontaine 1 ,, . , 

Gai, vive le roi ! > ^ 

Petite Jeanneton, vive le roi de la reine. 
Petite Jeanneton, 
Vive Napoleon ! 



Pour pecher du poisson, 

Gai, vive le roi ! 
Petite Jeanneton, etc. 



[bh) 



146 CHANSONS CANADIENNES 

La fontaine est profonde, | 



Gai, vive le roi ! 
Petite Jeanneton, etc. 

J'me suis coulee au fond, 

Gai, vive le roi ! 
Petite Jeanneton, etc. 

Par ici-t-il y passe ) 
Gai, vive le roi ! ) 
Petite Jeanneton, etc. 



{his) 



[his) 



Trois cavaliers barons, 

Gai, vive le roi ! 
Petite Jeanneton, ^ic. 



(bis) 



-Que donneriez-vous, belle, I /, . ^ 
Gai, vive le roi ! . ' 
Petite Jeanneton, etc. 

Qui vous tir'rait du fond ? ) ... , 

Gai, vive le roi ! ' 

Petite Jeanneton, etc. 

-Tirez, tirez, dit-elle 



1 {his) 



Gai, vive le roi 
Petite Jeanneton, etc. 

Apres ga, nous verrons 

Gai, vive le roi i 
Petite Jeanneton, etc. 



\ {hi 



Quand la bell' fut tiree, \ . , 

Gai, vive le roi ! ) 

Petite Jeanneton, etc. 

S'en fut \ la maison,! ,, . , 

Gai, Vive le roi ! -• 
Petite Jeanneton, etc. 



part f 
LANGUAGE— EDUCATION 



LANGUAGE-EDUCATION 



I HAVE often been asked if the French spoken here is 
not a mere patois, which the ordinary student of French 
could not be expected to understand. 1 am not a French 
scholar, but 1 do not think that the language of the Cana- 
dians differs greatly from that spoken by persons of the 
same degree of education in France. Cultivated persons 
use good, and ignorant persons use bad, French here as 
well as there. 

Aside from individual peculiarities there appears to me 
to be less ditTerence between the written and the spoken 
language than might be expected. The formation of the 
verbs tends, in a measure, to keep the variations within 
certain limits. 1 know one man who always says, ''Je 
may alter," in the sense of " I am just going there ;" but 
this is scarcely worse than " 1 am just going to go," often 
heard both in Canada and the United States. But if the 
same man wanted to say he was not going he would use 
a correct form. Another colloquial form with the same 
meaning, ''May alter" (without the 7^), is very common. 
Both expressions are old corruptions from '' Je vais y 
alter:' 

Mr. E. Gagnon cites a delightfully incorrect expression — 
" Espere:( uti instant, ma y alter quand et vous" mean- 
ing, " Wait a moment and 1 will go along with you." 
Esperei (hope) is used here, as it very often is, in the 
sense of attendee (wait), and I have often wondered when 
and how to hope should have come to be considered the 
equivalent of to wait. " Qiiand et vous " is equally diffi- 



ISO LANGUAGE — EDUCATION. 

cult to translate exactly. Perhaps a better rendering of 
the whole phrase would be, " Wait a moment, 1 will go 
there when you go," the idea being that two persons 
would go together merely for companionship, whereas 
avec vous (with you) might imply for aid, or for some 
definite purpose. 

in some of the parishes where the Acadians expelled 
from Nova Scotia settled, there are many expressions not 
found elsewhere, and the pronunciation is somewhat pecu- 
liar. The speech of the people of the Eastern Townships 
differs also from that of those on the north side of the St. 
Lawrence. On the lower St. Lawrence many curious 
forms and expressions are in common use. Perhaps this 
may be accounted for in part by the fact that a regiment 
of Highland Scotch troops, disbanded at Quebec, settled 
along that shore. They inter-married with the Canadians 
and no doubt interpolated into the French, that of necessity 
became habitual to them, many English and some Gaelic 
forms of speech. The words that they used were French, 
but their idioms and constructions were foreign. Since 
that time, however, some of these peculiarities have worn 
away, it may be interesting to note in passing that there 
are now to be found, in that region many persons with dis- 
tinctly Scotch names, and features which show evidence of 
Scotch descent, yet who cannot speak a word of anything 
but French. 

Many English words have been incorporated into the 
language ; especially, here as everywhere else, in connec- 
tion with machinery and modes of communication. The 
French people about here commonly say " railroad " and 
" steamboat," but usually put a stress on the last word of 
the compound, as if the expression were not quite natural 
to the language, and quotation marks were implied. 
The railway men say " switch," and I have even heard a 



LANGUAGE — EDUCATION. I5I 

half-2ingiicized Canadian say" shunter" (English to shunt, 
American to sv/itch, a train or car). A man at work for 
me once said that a certain person was " malaise a beater " 
(hard to beat). When his attention was called to some 
holes in the board he was using, he said '' Je vats les plitg- 
ger " ( I am going to plug them up), although the common 
French battre and boucher would have served equally well. 
He took the words beat and plug, added " er," and used 
them as French, without any reason whatever. 

The following will show how foreign words may find 
their way into a language : At our fishing camp we use 
many baked beans. Now the French for beans is feves, 
but baked beans are called simply "beans." Our cook 
will frequently ask if he is to " mettre tremper des feves 
pour faire de beans,'' that is, put some beans in soak to 
make some beans. So, baked beans will be beans in 
French, while the unbaked article will continue to be 
feves. 1 believe that the same use of the words prevails 
in most of the lumbering camps. 

Our habitant would not recognize potatoes as ''■ pommes 
de terre ; " he would call them palates, or more likely 
patakes. He would not say froid for cold, but frette. 
An expression that will strike a stranger as being rather 
curious is one that sounds almost precisely like yank. It 
is evolved from " rien que " (only) as in rien qu' un(on]y 
one), rien que deux (only two), spoken as "yank un," 
" y^iuk deux." The hearer will quickly catch the speak- 
er's meaning, but it will puzzle him to know what the 
word is. 

In spite of all these changes and variations (and a living 
language, like any other living thing, is constantly under- 
going change) 1 think the language holds its original 
purity very well. A very intelligent Canadian lady, after 
a considerable residence in France, told me that she found 



152 LANGUAGE — EDUCATION. 

the speech of the common people better here than there, 
and that of the best Canadian speakers equal to that of the 
best French. 

The language brought here by the higher classes was 
largely that of the French Court, and that brought by the 
lower classes largely that of Normandy, which was good. 
The number of professional men, officers, priests, lawyers, 
notaries, and others, has always been extremely large in 
proportion to the population, and the modes of speech of 
so many educated persons must have had some influence 
on the language of the rest. 

The language of the common people may be rude and 
ungrammatical, as might be expected, but it is not by any 
means a patois. It may be more the French of two hun- 
dred years ago than that of to-day, but it is still French, 
and not bad French. 

Most of the English residents here speak French more 
or less, if their accents and grammar are generally incor- 
rect, they use the language with readiness and fluency. 
There are thousands of men who habitually do business in 
either language, apparently without the slightest prefer- 
ence. Children playing together often speak English to 
one and French to another in the same breath. 1 have 
often heard a child of tive years talk English to its father 
and French to the person at its side. In some households 
the two languages are spoken indiscriminately, as any 
trifling circumstance may turn the current of expression 
into one form or the other. 

The English of French speakers is generally less fluent 
than the French of English speakers. There are very 
few of either race who can speak the language of the other 
with equal ease and elegance. 

Among literary men there are many who have done 
exceedingly good work in translating from one language 



LANGUAGE — EDUCATION. 153 

to the other, though not necessarily speaking both lan- 
guages fluently. 1 know of nothing finer in the way of 
translating" English into French than Mr. Louis Frechette's 
version of Mr. Howells' " A Chance Acquaintance," en- 
titled " Un Rencontre." In translation of French into 
English Prof. C. D. G. Roberts' rendering of " Les Anciens 
Canadiens," entitled " The Canadians of Old," leaves little 
to be desired. Another translation of the same book, by 
Mrs. Pennee, is considered by some to be equally line. 

Formerly the education of the common people was 
greatly neglected, if not positively discouraged. Within 
twenty-five or thirty years 1 have heard it argued and seen 
it claimed in a Canadian newspaper that general education 
was neither necessary nor desirable. Since that time a great 
change has taken place, and the school system of the Prov- 
ince is now pronounced excellent. No child of the rising 
generation, unless in some very remote settlement, can 
have any excuse for not knowing at least how to read and 
write. A school teacher of my acquaintance gives me the 
following sketch of the organization of the educational 
facilities in the Province. He refers of course to the 
French schools : 

" The Canadian schools are directed by a committee of 
Public Instruction composed of the Bishop and Priests of 
the Diocese of Quebec, having for its President at this 
time the Hon. Gideon Ouimet, who acts as Superintendent 
and oversees the working of all the schools of the 
Province. 

" The schools are divided into three principal classes: 

" 1st. Academical Schools. 

" 2d. Model Schools. 

" 3d. Elementary Schools. 

" The local [Provincial] Government gives annually to 



154 LANGUAGE — EDUCATION. 

each Model school a sum equal to two-thirds of the sum 
received by the Secretary-Treasurer of each city or village, 
for school purposes. (The proceeds of a special tax on 
all tax payers.) 

" It pays also a certain sum besides for each Elementary 
school, based on the number of children of school Age. 

" In each parish there is established a body of school 
commissioners whose duty it is to build school houses and 
establish schools in each arrondissement where there is 
sufficient population. It is their duty also to engage teach- 
ers and fix their salaries. 

" In cities the salary of a Professor in an Academical 
school is from four to five hundred dollars per year, of a 
teacher in a Model school, from two to three hundred, and 
in an Elementary school, from a hundred to a hundred and 
fifty dollars. (In the country parishes the salaries of Model 
and Elementary school teachers are considerably less.) 

" The Professors in Academical schools are required to 
teach the Greek, Latin, English, and French languages, the 
histories of France, England, and the United States, draw- 
ing, and bookkeeping by single and double entry. 

" In the Model schools the French and English languages, 
mental arithmetic, algebra, geometry, the histories of France 
and England, the history of Canada, Sacred history and the 
history of the Church, freehand drawing, composition, and 
bookkeeping by single and double entry. 

" In the Elementary schools education is commenced by 
teaching the alphabet, a task very difficult and tiresome in 
the career of the teacher. The spelling and putting together 
of the words follows, then figures and the first ideas of 
arithmetic. The teacher requires courage and perseverance 
before his young pupils are able to tell him how much a 
certain sum will amount to with interest compounded for 
ten years. 



LANGUAGE — EDUCATION. 155 

" The average number of pupils for each teacher in a 
village is from twenty to thirty. 

" After ten years' service every teacher has the right to 
draw from the Government, in case of sickness, one-tifth 
of the average annual salary that he has received during 
the time, for the whole term of his illness. 

" After thirty-five years' service every teacher has the 
right to a pension equal to the whole average annual sal- 
ary that he has received. This pension continues during 
his life, and if he dies leaving a widow she continues to 
receive for her lifetime one-half of that sum. 

" To be entitled to this pension, however, the teacher 
must pay annually to the pension fund of the Government 
two per cent, of his salary during his term of service. 

" The special tax imposed on all holders of real estate 
for school purposes cannot be less than live or more than 
fifty cents per hundred dollars. Each head of a family 
also pays for each child attending school not less than five 
or over fifty cents per month. Books and articles neces- 
sary for the pupils are furnished by the parents. 

" The general and personal taxes are fixed by the school 
commissioners, and collected by the Secretary-Treasurer of 
the municipality. It is his duty also to instruct the com- 
missioners as to their duties, to give notices of meetings of 
the municipal council (which are usually held once a 
month), and to be generally the organ of communication 
between the municipal Government and the public." 

In many of the larger parishes teachers are employed 
from some one of several Brotherhoods, of which there are 
various orders that devote themselves mainly or wholly 
to teaching. They are employed very cheaply. In a 
neighboring and quite large village all the boys are given 
into the charge of four of these Brothers, who contract for 



156 LANGUAGE — EDUCATION. 

the whole for seven hundred dollars a year. . The men 
are provided with buildings by the municipality, but pay 
all their own expenses. Three of them only are teachers, 
the other being the cook and general servant. Being 
bound to poverty they can work cheaply. 

In that village there are no schools for girls except at 
the convent. Day scholars pay fifty cents per month for 
tuition. Boarders pay about five dollars per month. 

In many parishes it is difficult to find a sutficient num- 
ber of suitable persons who can read and write to act as 
school commissioners. I have heard some amusing anec- 
dotes of a commissioner's experience in that capacity. In 
one case the little girls brought their copy books to show 
their improvement in writing, when the poor man could not 
tell whether the books were held right side or wrong side up. 

The commissioners, however, with the aid of the cure 
and the Secretary-Treasurer, usually look well after their 
business, and an inefficient commissioner would probably 
find no more favor with his neighbors than a committee- 
man of the same stamp in a New England village. 

The trouble of course is that the great majority of 
children leave school much too young, and soon forget all 
they have learned. Two men in my employ, both young 
and of fair capacity, who once attended school long enough 
to learn to read, are now only able to study out simple 
sentences with difficulty. 

The girls derive, or at least retain, more advantage from 
their school instruction than the boys. In the farmer's 
family it is usually a daughter who keeps the accounts and 
conducts the correspondence. When fresh from school or 
convent she writes and expresses herself rather well, but 
she too forgets, and is glad to give the pen and ink over 
to her own daughter as soon as she has one old enough to 
take charge of them. 



LANGUAGE— EDUCATION. 157 

It is hardly necessary to say that instruction is really 
given in only a few of the somewhat formidable list of 
subjects required of teachers in the Model schools. As 
the schools are under the special supervision of the clergy, 
a large part of the school hours is devoted to prayers and 
religious exercises and the teaching of duties toward the 
Church. 

While a certain small amount of education is much 
more general than formerly, there is no very noticeable 
change in degree. There is one thing taught, however, 
that is not in the curriculum, and that might be introduced 
to advantage in many American schools, and that is good 
manners. They are taught not only in the schools, but 
everywhere else, and the lessons learned in childhood are 
not forgotten in after life. Especially noticeable is the 
respect of youth for age. Many other nations might well 
learn from Canadians that politeness is not obsequiousness, 
nor courtesy servility. 

In parishes where there is a sut^icient number of Protest- 
ant tax payers they may dissent and establish separate 
schools. If there are not more than three they can like- 
wise dissent and pay their taxes to dissentient schools else- 
where. School taxes of incorporated companies go to the 
support of Roman Catholic schools. As comparatively 
little time is given to religious exercises in the dissentient 
schools — although they have always some such — they are, 
as a rule, far more efficient as regards secular education 
than the others. 

A few facts indicate progress in the matter of education. 

Our parish numbers about eighteen hundred souls, 
and has not materially varied from that number in 
thirty-five years, emigration having absorbed all the natu- 
ral increase and a trifle more. 

In 1861 th? sale of stamps at the post office for the 

21 



158 LANGUAGE— EDUCATION. 

three months of September, October, and November, 
amounted to about eleven dollars. At present the sales 
are from forty to forty-five dollars monthly. 

In 1861 only five or six daily papers were received by 
subscribers. Now thirty copies of dailies are distributed, 
and eighteen weeklies. (1 refer to French papers only, and 
I think my informant must have neglected to count some 
semi-weekly and tri-weekly papers.) 

There were then two French schools in the parish where 
now there are six. The regular attendance is also larger. 

We have, included in the above population, about one 
hundred and fifty English speaking people, who support 
two additional schools. 

These figures show a great gain in the general intelli- 
gence, but they are somewhat deceptive, after the manner 
of statistics generally. 

My reckoning would give (nearly) one French daily 
paper to eleven families (of five persons each) in the parish. 
But it happens that they are all received in the village, 
which numbers at least sixty families, and of these six 
persons (or families) receive not less than twelve, leaving 
only eighteen dailies for the other fifty -four. 

The weeklies give about one paper to every fifteen 
families of the agricultural population. 

I do not vouch for the entire exactness of my calcula- 
tions, but they give a tolerably fair approximation. My 
information is derived mainly from post ot!ice returns. 
Emigration and certain local causes account largely for 
the great increase in the sale of stamps. 



IPart Iir 
CONVEYANCES 



CONVEYANCES 



< y /:^^ 



The modes of conveyance in Canada are as peculiar as 
the rest of its adjuncts of civilization. 

As a winter vehicle for common use on country roads 
there is nothing that answers so well as the old-fashioned 
cariole. It is neither handsome nor capacious, but can 
stand work that 
would wreck a 
New England 
sleigh very quick- 
ly, and at the same 
time is extremely 
comfortable. it 
sits low, on solid 
wooden runners 
about two inches 
thick, to which the shafts are attached by rings some two 
and a half inches in diameter, thus giving them a consider- 
able amount of play, which is oftentimes a great advan- 
tage. The traces of the harness are fastened directly to 
the shafts, so that the draught comes where it is most im- 
mediately needed. The arrangement is probably not so 
easy for the horse as where whiffletrees are used. The 
back of the cariole is high, protecting the passenger from 
cold winds. When two seats are used the forward one is 
a foot higher than the other and not more than four 
inches wide. The driver is thus always ready to stand 
up, or to throw his weight to one side of the vehicle or 
the other, as occasion demands. 




162 



CONVEYANCES. 



Well ensconced in furs, with a good horse and a good 
driver (c/?«rr^//^f— translated " charioteer " by one of my 
friends) the passenger may settle himself in a cariole for a 
long drive without anxiety. He need not concern himself 
much about his driver, who will be a hardy person, well 
wrapped up and accustomed to all weathers. 

There is one good thing about travelling in Canada, and 
that is that in almost every village of the slightest import- 
ance there may be found in winter or summer from two 
to half a dozen of these " charioteers " ready to drive the 

traveller wherever 
he wants to go, 
and at very rea- 
sonable prices. 
__ The old fash- 

l^^Mir^^^raHftf IF ioned caleche has 

entirely gone out 
of use in this re- 
gion, having been supplanted by the buckboard. In the 
very hilly coun- 
try east of Que- 
bec it is still in 
use. in the city 
of Quebec also 
many are em- 
ployed as hack- 
ney vehicles, and few tourists think their visit complete 
without a ride in one of them. 

The buckboard is in common use in the country. It is 
not at all like the well-known Adirondack buckboard, 
but is the simplest kind of a vehicle. The seat, which 
is double (facing back and front), is placed in the mid- 
dle of its length, and as the only spring comes from the 
springiness of the boards, sometimes there is considerable 





Old Cariole, 1790 



CONVEYANCES. 



m 




jolting ; but for regular travelling over rough roads it is 
more useful and convenient than almost any other car- 
riage. 

In speaking of means of conveyance the snowshoe must 
not be forgotten. Everybody knows what snowshoes are, 
and not a few wonder how anybody can walk with them. 
They are an embarrassment of course, 
but less inconvenient than might be 
supposed. On an unbroken sheet of 
snow, two, three, or four feet deep the 
snowshoe is a necessity. If the snow 
is firm and hard the shoe will leave 
only a slight track, but if the snow is 
light and soft it will sink some inches, 
although it will always find sufficient ~ 
support somewhere. The required 
step is so different from an ordinary 
walk that the movement is at first fatiguing, but one soon 
becomes accustomed to it. It ought not to be supposed, 
however, that snowshoes are an indispensable part of 
every Canadian's ordinary foot-gear. Farmers and vil- 
lagers who seldom go far into the woods or fields in winter 
rarely make use of them. 

For the snowshoe no substitute has ever been proposed. 
The Norwegian ski would not answer at all well in. this 
country. A first-rate pair of snowshoes is a rare treasure. 
If the rawhide netting is not well stretched and bags under 
the foot when the snow is a bit soft or damp, it makes hard 
work, and is a perpetual annoyance. If you get a pair 
that is strong, light, and springy, take good care of them. 
Dozens of plans for fastening on the shoes have been con- 
trived, but the practised snowshoer will have none of them. 
He sticks to the old plan of fastening with leather thongs, 
and will not bother with straps and buckles. 



164 



CONVEYANCES. 



The three articles, the cariole, the snowshoe, and the 
bark canoe, answer the purposes for which they are made 
better than anything else yet invented. The bark canoe 
can be equalled or surpassed in every respect but one, and 
that is the convenience with which it can be repaired in case 
of accident, with materials always at hand. With other 
materials canoes may be built both stronger and lighter 
in proportion to their carrying capacity, but they are 
not so easily mended if they meet with a serious mishap. 
With a piece of bark from the nearest birch tree, a bit 
of gum, and the long slender root of the spruce, the ex- 
perienced canoeman can repair almost any amount of 
damage. 

In country villages dogs were formerly often used for 
drawing moderate loads, but nowadays their principal 
occupation in that line is the amusement of the small boys, 
who delight in harnessing them up and driving them. The 

dogs, too, enjoy the 
fun, and like a race as 
well as their young 
masters. A large dog 
is quite a powerful 
animal, and can draw 
on a sled or toboggan, 
if he has good footing, 
fully as much as a 
man. An Indian has been known to start out with his 
team of four dogs harnessed tandem, drawing a load con- 
sisting of a barrel of pork, two barrels of flour, some small 
parcels and himself on top of all. Some may remember 
when the usual manner of distributing milk to customers 
in Quebec was from hand-carts managed by a woman who 
held the shafts, aided by a dog harnessed to the axle-tree. 
The use of dogs for such purposes is now forbidden in the 




CONVEYANCES. 



165 



cities. An old friend who happened to see the drawing 
from which the following cut was made remarked, " Yes, 
that is just the way they used to steal my wood when 1 
lived out on the Gomin road." 




'•>,^ 1-"*;^^ 



part 1*11 1[ 
SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS 



SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS 




Many visitors to Canada are amused to see the out-of- 
door ovens that are common all through the country. 
They are much of the same size and nature as the old- 
fashioned brick 
ovens of New 
England, but are 
usually built of 
clay and set on 
posts or frame 
work of timber 
at a little distance 
from buildings. 
Commonly they have some kind of a roof over them. 
They have no flues, the smoke of the fires for heating 
escaping through the open doors. 

Most of the people, when not too far away, buy their 
bread from the bakers, but nearly all farmers have an 
oven for occasional use. Some families make their own 
bread for the sake of economy, although the baker's profits 
are small and his bread is almost always good and whole- 
some. Country shopkeepers keep bread on sale as surely 
as a New England shopkeeper keeps flour. The loaves 
weigh six pounds each, and are made from a flour that 
does not dry and so crumble quickly. Warm bread is 
almost never used, and pastry but little. Neither are 
oatmeal or cornmeal cooked. I find my men in the woods 
like oatmeal when 1 have it, but they would never think 
of providing it for themselves. It is the same with baked 



170 SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 

beans. The men are always fond of them, but I have 
rarely known a Canadian family to cook them. In large 
lumbering camps, however, of late years they are very 
much used, although the favorite dish is still the tradi- 
tional pea-soup." 

While most of the people may be considered poor we 
see but little positive suffering among them, and cases of 
really grinding, degrading poverty are extremely rare. We 
have no almshouses ; but aged or infirm persons or those 
without friends to support them are sometimes cared for 
in the hospitals. There are not many such, for as families 
are large there is almost always some one able and willing 
to furnish subsistence to an unfortunate relative, and the 
people generally are helpful to each other. There is no 
immigration into the Province, and there are, therefore, 
no friendless or helpless foreigners to be supported at the 
public expense. If one of the poor of the parish meets 
with special misfortune by fire or accident, so that he is 
really in distress, a couple of his neighbors will often ap- 
point themselves a committee to go about and collect sup- 
plies for his benefit, and rarely return without their sleigh 
well filled with provisions. 

Beggars, duly provided with certificates from their cures 
that they are worthy objects of charity, are not infrequent, 
and seem to consider themselves a privileged class. They 
go about from house to house — opening any door without 
knocking — asking for charity '^ pour V amour du bon 
Dieu," and going on to dilate on their claims to benevo- 
lence, to which no one pays any attention. The house- 
wife goes in search of the one cent which is the usual 
amount given, and if she finds nothing less than a five or 
a ten cent piece she coolly asks the beggar to change it for 
her, which he is usually able to do. Many of these beg- 



SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 171 

gars have certain routes that they follow, and make their 
turns at regular intervals. 

That Canadians are kind hearted is shown by this treat- 
ment of their poor, and their hospitality is well known. 
From the highest to the lowest the acquaintance or the 
stranger who comes to their doors is welcomed to the best 
the house can atford. If they were not gay and light 
hearted they would not be French, although the manifes- 
tations of their gayety are perhaps tempered by climate 
and other conditions. 

Polite they are, almost invariably to strangers, and gen- 
erally among themselves. In all the writer's experience 
among them he has never, whether in city, country, or in 
the woods, met with anything but courtesy, and has rarely 
witnessed unaccountable rudeness. Only under the excite- 
ment of drink are serious quarrels common. One way 
they may be considered quarrelsome, but their quarrels are 
such as result in law suits rather than in bodily injuries. 
They seem to be very fond of going to law. They are 
somewhat free in accusing each other of tricks and dis- 
honest dealings in small aiTairs, to which they may be 
somewhat inclined, though possibly not more so than 
some other nationalities. A cord of wood will not inva- 
riably be of full measure here any more than is a ton of 
coal or of ice always of full weight in New York. The 
maple sugar that 1 receive for rents of trees is not always 
the best that the man makes, or free from an admixture 
of flour or other foreign substance ; but neither do we 
always find elsewhere that the worst apples are on the top 
of the barrel, or that the quart box of strawberries is cer- 
tain to hold two pints. There are rogues in all countries. 
On the whole, the honest habitant in Canada is probably 
equally as honest as the honest farmer elsewhere. \ 

I have been told that the most ingenious tricks in the 



172 SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 

way of petty cheating are those played or attempted by 
jobbers of logs in the woods in trying to pass oif poor 
logs as good ones. Some that 1 have heard of were really 
masterpieces of trickery. The culler, if he knows his 
business, is always on the watch for them, and is fairly 
sure to find them out ; and the curious part of it is that 
the jobber is not in the least ashamed when his trick is 
detected. 

I Although comparatively few of the men are total ab- 
stainers, yet drunkenness is not so general that it can be 
considered to be a national vice. In almost every village 
there will most likely be some more or less given to 
drink, but the great majority are altogether temperate, 
taking a glass or two occasionally, but never drinking to 
excess. Licenses are required for the sale of intoxicating 
liquors, and in most country parishes none are granted. In 
some places where there is a good deal of travel an inn- 
keeper may be licensed to sell to guests but not to the 
public. This does not prove, however, that at special occa- 
sions, — New Year's visits, heated elections, and the like, — 
liquors are not important features. 

[The people are mainly industrious,]'but to a New Eng- 
ender would not seem to be hard worked. Mechanics do 
not try to turn out the most and the best work possible, 
but only enough to live on, and just a little more if the 
chance comes. LXheir habits being simple and their living 
cheap, they are satisfied with little, and social ambitions 
do not trouble them muchT" The ambitious youth goes 
to the cities, where he aspires to be a notary, a lawyer, a 
politician, or, best of all, because safest and not usually 
demanding arduous exertions, a Government employe. If 
he goes into mercantile life he generally manages to hold a 
fair position, and some of the largest and best of the com- 
mercial houses in Quebec are entirely Canadian ; but heavy 



SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 173 

corporate enterprises are generally controlled by other 
nationalities. 

I have alluded in Part VIII to the emigration to the 
" States " as a common method among young and enter- 
prising men and women of bettering their condition. 
This emigration became so common as to alarm the 
Government, and a few years ago strong efforts were made 
to induce the repatriation of emigrants. These have 
lately abated, and there would seem to be no occasion for 
them. As the French population regularly doubles in less 
than thirty years, it would seem to be a sutficient problem 
to provide for the increase. Where some two and a half 
millions of people in 1920 and five millions in 1950 are to 
find homes in this province, is not quite clear. There is 
land enough for them all, but only a small proportion of 
it is desirable. The farming here is only poorly remuner- 
ative at best. Diversified occupations and industries will 
absorb a good many, but it looks as if emigration would 
need to continue to be large. 

That a hardy, temperate, prudent, and fairly industrious 
people should not, even if not particularly energetic or 
ambitious, have made some progress, could hardly be pos- 
sible. Those who knew the Canadian people forty or fifty 
years ago will easily see a difference now. 

My personal intercourse with the people began in my 
boyhood, and for the last ten years I have lived almost en- 
tirely among them. 1 have always found them civil, oblig- 
ing, and excellent neighbors. 1 could (and did) heartily 
join with an English speaking Canadian friend who 
summed up a discussion of their qualities by saying they 
were "not a bad lot." 

I am not blind to some defects in the national charac- 
ter ; but neither, 1 hope, do 1 fail to recognize their many 
good qualities, 1 would rather write pages about these 
13 



174 SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 

than give a single line of ungracious criticism to a people 
among whom I have found so many friends, and been so 
kindly treated. 

Some Americans seem to have the idea that the French 
Canadians still have an attachment to France and are not 
loyal to Great Britain. This is a mistake. It is true that 
the loyalty of the common people is of rather a neutral 
character and perhaps would not stand a great strain, but 
they have no attachment to France beyond that almost 
inseparable from a common race, language, and religion. 
As individuals they seem rather to dislike the French when 
brought into contact with them. Our good Nazaire, who 
is not at all a bad type of the Canadian habitant, cordially 
detests them, as do many others whom 1 have met. 

The Canadians have no reason for disloyalty to Britain. 
All their rights have been well respected, and they have 
received their full share — many Englishmen think far too 
large a share — of honors and favors from the Crown. 
Provincial politicians sometimes think or pretend to think 
otherwise, but their claims are probably put forward mainly 
with the hope of securing some personal popularity among 
their compatriots. It is only fair to say that the people 
generally pay comparatively little attention to these pol- 
iticians. They know there is little or nothing of which 
they can reasonably complain, and they are quite well con- 
tented under British rule, and appreciate the advantages 
they derive from it. They do not like the Englishman 
any more than do other conquered races, but they get 
along very well with him and try to get all they can out 
of him. 

The general sentiment was quite well expressed in the 
reply of a priest to an English lady who wished to know 
the feelings of the clergy towards the British Govern- 



SOME NATIONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 175 

ment : " We are quite well satisfied so long as you let us 
alone," 

A trifling circumstance may give an idea how little some 
of the people know or care about their British connection. 
1 told an employe that I expected certain visitors on the 
Queen's Birthday {La fete de la Reine). He replied: 
" La fete de la Reine, c'est la 4 Juillet, rCest-ce pas ? " 
(The Queen's Birthday, that is the 4th of July, is it not ?) 
He was not less intelligent than three quarters of the men 
of his class, although it is probable that the majority would 
know that the two dates were not the same. But few, 
however, would know why the 1st of July (Dominion 
Day) is a Canadian festival, and very few indeed know 
why Americans celebrate the 4th of July. Of^cial efforts 
to make the people look upon Dominion Day as an im- 
portant point in their history entirely fail of effect with 
the people in general. 

Of annexation sentiment there is little worth mention- 
ing. Most of the people think Canada would be more 
prosperous under the United States Government, but the 
feeling is not strong enough to make them seek to disturb 
the existing order of things. 



part J1I1Iir 
A WINTER EXCURSION 



A WINTER EXCURSION 



My brother and I have a commodious fishing camp or 
lodge on the shore of Lake Clair, already mentioned, to 
which we often make excursions. Though these visits are 
not properly Canadian Life, yet it is largely through them 
that we have come into close contact with our habitant 
friends. I therefore make no apologies for including in 
this volume the story of one of my first excursions to our 
camp with my family. The cabin was then a small and 
simple affair, but has since grown considerably, responding 
to the constantly increasing demands of our friends. 

After one of my visits to the lake I said at home that 
the next time 1 went I would take my little girls along. 
They had already been on a camping expedition with me 
the previous autumn, and well remembered its delights. 

The novelty of camping in winter pleased them, and 
they were ready to try it. I began to attempt to back out 
of my agreement, but it was too late. I was compelled to 
admit that there were no insurmountable obstacles in the 
way. The lumbermen had opened roads by which we 
could drive to the very door of the cabin. This was a round- 
about way, but there was a much shorter one, though part 
must be done on foot. The girls were not afraid of snow- 
shoes, however ; they had been amusing themselves with 
them for weeks. Moreover, they were young, fresh, and 
vigorous. The prospect of a long walk did not disturb them 
in the least. Of course 1 gave way, and their mother, 
whose joining the expedition was quite out of the ques- 
tion, did the same. 

We decided on the shorter route for ourselves and the 



180 



A WINTER EXCURSION. 



longer one for the baggage and provisions. While we 
were making preparations there came on a heavy thaw. 
Soft weather in the month of January, with torrents of 
rain and occasional thunder-storms, lasted nearly a week. 
Such a time was never known in the country before. 
The ice gorged in many places, and the rivers overflowed 




their banks for miles. Some houses were half under 
water, and people went about in boats. 

Of course we waited for cold weather, and in good time 
it came. When at length we were ready to start we did 
not complain of the cold, although the thermometer stood 
at ten below zero. We dress and prepare for cold weather, 
and it must be very cold indeed to prevent us from going 
about. In fact, we experience less discomfort from twenty 
or even forty degrees below freezing than from one of our 
New England northeasterly storms, when the thermometer 
is scarcely at the freezing point. Snow-storms one expects 
and does not mind them much unless they are extremely 
severe and with high winds. Once in a while, however, one 
comes that blocks up everything for days together. 



A WINTER EXCURSION. iSl 

Our delay had given so much time to talk of our excur- 
sion, that several of our friends accepted our invitation to 
visit us at the camp. We promised to accommodate them 
all, if they would not come too many at once. We could 
offer a nice bed to each of six persons, but beyond that, 
age, sex, and condition might interfere with convenient 
lodging. The little girls proposed to sleep two in a bed, 
and even larger ones offered to submit to the same incon- 
venience rather than not go. 

It was strange how the idea of a winter camping party 
fascinated them. Soon the question came to be, not who 
should go, but who would be obliged to stay at home. 

I decided to take along my little camp-stove and my 
faithful old double tent that had never failed to give me 
all the room 1 wanted. Not too large for two or too 
small for six—he who is not happy in it is not a woods- 
man, and I do not want him with me. 

A tent in mid- winter, especially for a sleeping apartment, 
does not sound attractive ; but with my little stove it was en- 
tirely comfortable, and proved a popular resort when we had 
need of it. As it happened, the children and young girls 
packed themselves so closely in the beds, that, as a rule, 
only the guides were finally obliged sometimes to sleep in 
it ; but there would have been no hardship in it for any one. 
Day and evening it was a favorite lounging-place for all 
hands. 

So, after the rain had ceased, and after we had had 
two days and nights of good solid zero weather, the girls 
and I started off in two carioles, with many expressions of 
surprise at the hardihood of our undertaking, and many 
doubting wishes for a " boii voyage " from the neighbors. 

Such an expedition was not at all in accordance with 
the notions of the French people. Aside from the care- 
fully encouraged view that the holidays of the Church 



182 A WINTER EXCURSION. 

oflfer sufficient recreation, and that none that the Church 
does not take the leading part in are desirable, there might 
seem something like impropriety in a party of young and 
old, male and female, going away by themselves on a 
camping expedition. Such a thing was never known in 
our parish. The nearest thing to it was perhaps that in 
the time of making maple sugar, a party might be made 
up to visit a sugar camp for a day. True, my original 
party was only my own family, but our visitors promised 
to be of various families and ages. We cared little for 
the Canadian ideas, for we had been accustomed to 
do as we pleased among the people without asking 
whether they liked it or not. Americans ourselves, we 
had issued our Declaration of Independence, and lived 
up to it. I am not aware that we ever did anything to 
which they could object, but we paid so little regard 
to their customs, that I suspect that they always felt a 
little uncertainty as to what we might be going to do 
next. 

The first stage of our journey was a drive of nine miles. 
The roads were not good, but were frozen hard, and the 
carioles stood them well. We made the distance without 
accident and within an hour, scarcely realizing whether it 
was cold or not. We did manage to strike a " halite," 
which nearly tore the sleeve out of the fur coat of one of 
the girls, but the arm in it was so small that no harm was 
done. 

As soon as the snow becomes deep the roads must be 
" balized," or after a heavy snow-fall the poor horses 
would be unable to find them. The narrow track is 
marked out with branches or saplings, with turn-outs, 
also " balized," at convenient distances. As the drifting 
snow completely fills up the road, there is nothing else to 



A WINTER EXCURSION. 183 

distinguish it from tiie soft snow on either side of it. 
Roads, ditches, and fields are all on the same level. 

As long as the horse feels the hard track under his feet 
he will trot quietly along, even if there is no outward and 
visible sign of it. If another vehicle is met where no 
turn-out is marked it is not easy to induce him to leave 
the path. The experienced animal, when compelled to it, 
will step off as gently as possible, making no struggle, 
but waiting peaceably until the other sleigh has passed. 
Then, perhaps, he will throw himself back on his haunches, 
raise both fore feet together, and bring them back into 
the road again. 

The shantymen's horses, on roads where there is not 
much passing, learn to put their feet into the tracks made 
by their predecessors. Consequently, although the sleigh 
track may be very good, your horse can take no longer 
steps and go no faster than the one that first opened the 
road. Everywhere else he would sink deep into the snow. 

At the end of our drive the faithful Nazaire met us, 
and taking our extra wraps in a skilfully made up pack 
on his strong and willing shoulders, led the way to our 
next post. It was up a river, on snow and ice, but the 
frozen crust was not strong enough to bear our weight, 
and snowshoes were called into use. We knew the current 
was very strong and the ice would be thin at best. It would 
hold under a broad snowshoe, but the 
unshod foot would be liable to break 
through. On the swift rivers the 
merest film of ice serves to support 
enough snow to conceal its treacher- 
ous nature. With the aid of snow- 
shoes progress was easy, when with- 
out them it would have been im- 
possible. 




184 A WINTER EXCURSION. 

The distance we had to go was vaguely described as 
" trentaine d'arpents" (about thirty arpents). If 1 had 
been told it was a " good piece," I should have had quite 
as good an idea, for 1 have found the Canadian's " tren- 
taine d'arpents " a most indefinite measure. The arpent 
is a measure both of length and superficies, its length 
being equal to 180 French or 192 English feet. We 
reckon twenty-eight of them to a mile. Of late years 
the Government has made all its surveys in English 
acres, which, surveyors tell me, is far the most convenient 
measure, as it divides better into fractions ; but formerly 
the arpent was universally used. One of my girls in- 
sisted that thirty arpents meant three miles, while another 
declared they meant four. The distance was really about 
a mile and a half, and we made it without a break, al- 
though the girls were glad of a rest at the end of the road. 
Our stop was made at a " rollway," or place where the 
logs are piled ready for the drive in the spring. Several 
acres of ground were covered with them, the result of the 
winter's work. 

From here we turned into an almost unbroken forest. 
Logs had been made there for many years, but to the un- 
practised eye the aspect of the ground was just what it 
had been from time immemorial. Some stumps may be 
seen, but the mere passer-by would hardly know that man 
had ever passed that way. Following up thit " maitre 
chemin," or main road of the lumbermen, we found it 
smooth, firm, and in beautiful order, as all these roads 
should be, for the loads to be drawn are heavy. A good 
deal of engineering ingenuity is often displayed in locat- 
ing the lumber roads, for there must be no up grades, and 
in such a hilly country as this it is not easy to avoid them ; 
and a long detour is frequently necessary in order to avoid 
even a slight rise. On this " maitre chemin" we carried 



A WINTER EXCURSION. 185 

our snowshoes on our backs, where they seemed much 
lighter than they had done on our feet. The way was up, 
up, up, all up hill for an hour and a half, up the hills that 
the logs had come down. 

We reached the lumbermen's camp just as the men had 
tlnished dinner, and great was their astonishment at seeing 
these three girls away there in the woods on a holiday 
excursion, in winter. The Canadians are almost invariably 
polite and respectful, but if those girls were stared at it is 
no wonder. Nazaire and 1 were well known to the fore- 
man of the camp, and we received every possible courtesy. 
We were cordially invited to dine, but although the girls 
were glad of rest and shelter, they could not manage the 
pea soup, which indeed looked as if a strong stomach 
would be needed to digest it. Nazaire and 1, however, 
made a hearty meal without hesitation. 

Our way lay only a little farther on the lumbermen's 
roads and then we put on the snowshoes again, it was still 
up hill, and soon my little barometer said we were four- 
teen hundred feet above our starting point. The after- 
noon was delightful, a most perfect winter's day ; cold, 
but not too cold, as indeed it seldom is too cold in the 
woods for walking. The lights and the shadows of the 
trunks and branches on the white snow were charming, 
and many were the expressions of delight and surprise 
that 1 heard from the girls behind me, as we wound our 
way, Indian file, in and out among the trees. Nazaire led 
and 1 followed, to beat a good track for the others. He 
was supremely happy at hearing the girls' cheerful voices, 
and often turned his pleased face round to me with the 
exclamation, " ^//'^//^5 sont heureuses!" (How happy 
they are ! ) 

After half an hour's walk up hill we began to go down, 
and faster than we had gone up. The girls got many 



186 



A WINTER EXCURSION. 



tumbles, but they were dressed for them, and a little fall 
in soft snow hurts nobody. They already had had a 
long walk, but were not so tired that their lively chatter 
was checked, or the delights of the way were lessened. Still 
to the unpractised eye there was no sign that man had ever 
passed that way, and for part of the distance none but 

hunters and explorers prob- 
ably ever had passed. The 
loggers had not reached that 
region, and nobody else had 
any business there. We were 
opening a new path to our 
camp, shaping our way by 
the lay of the land and the 
direction of the streams. 
Nazaire knew all about these, 
and where he goes I follow 
without hesitation. This time 
I knew we could not go far 
wrong, for we had only to 
cross the divide that sepa- 
rates two systems of water- 
courses, and the distance was 
not great. It was to avail ourselves of newly opened roads 
that we were taking this way to our camp, as well as to 
avoid the " dos de cheval," or " horse-back," — a narrow 
ridge, scarcely wide enough for a single footpath, with 
deep and broken gullies on either side, and in many places 
steep and hard to climb, as my legs found out when they 
were a good deal younger than they are now. 

Not very far from the top of the divide we came to a 
''petit lac rond" (little round lake), round as if drawn 
with a compass. Our footpath had always led us across 
this lake, but reaching it from another direction when 





o 




A WINTER EXCURSION. l87 

coming by the '' dos de cheval." It is only a bit of a lake 
almost on the top of the hill, but what a lake it is for 
trout ! We had no sooner crossed the Round Lake than we 
began to go down again. We could hear the pretty little 
stream, the outlet of the lake, rippling and murmuring 
under its coating of snow, and telling us the way to Lake 
Clair. In a few minutes more we could see, across the lake, 
the smoke from our cabin. But here was the hardest 
part of our journey. There was a strong wind sweeping 
down the whole length of the lake, and the entire surface 
was covered with smooth ice, with here and there patches 
of snow. That wind had to be faced. Cheeks and noses 
suffered somewhat, but there were no frost bites, and in a 
short time the doors of our cabin opened to us. 

The only other gentleman of all those who had prom- 
ised to visit us who was able to come at that time, was a 
somewhat heavy man, who had then no liking for snow- 
shoes. (Later in the season, however, 1 found that he was 
taking lessons in using both snowshoes and toboggan with 
a good deal of enthusiasm, and that one of our fellow- 
boarders often came late to her supper. But that has 
nothing to do with this story.) He had come by the long, 
tedious, and roundabout way by which he could reach the 
cabin without walking, and brought with him all the good 
things we had provided for our excursion, so that we were 
not anxious about our supper. Owing to our long delays 
at the lumbermen's camp and elsewhere he had arrived 
before us ; but he had nothing to tell about charming 
walks through woods, dinners at logging camps, or of 
rushing, invisible streams. He had only sat still in his 
" berline " (pung) and had seen nothing. 

The cabin was new, clean, and warm, and the luxurious 
beds of fir branches smelled deliciously. The delight of 
the children knew no bounds. " Why, it smells just like 



188 A WINTER EXCURSION. 

Christmas," said the httle one, as the sweet fragrance 
reminded her of our Christmas tree. " Aren't we glad 
we came ! " and " Is n't this just splendid ! " were among 
the remarks they made, mingled with thanks to me for 
bringing them, which were more than I deserved, for 1 had 
counted on enjoying their enjoyment. The two small ones 
speedily appropriated a bed for themselves, and the larger 
one another, and they luxuriated on the springy boughs. 

Some trout had been caught for us by the guardian of 
the camp, and the good Nazaire set about cleaning and 
cooking them as if long walks and heavy packs were things 
he had never heard of. The fish were excellent, and it 
required a goodly number to satisfy our appetites. The 
trout of Lake Clair are not large, although their delicious 
flavor is proverbial. Their average weight is about three- 
quarters of a pound, while the trout of the Round Lake 
run to one and a half pounds, and those of Lake Croche, 
another lake near by, to fully two pounds. Some good 
fishermen say that a three-quarter pound trout of Lake 
Clair gives as good sport as two-pound trout elsewhere. 
They are strong and active, colors bright, and flesh firm and 
red. Cooked by Nazaire they are certainly delicious eating. 

All hands were more or less fatigued, and bedtime came 
early. Screens of blankets made a dressing-room, with 
all the privacy of a Pullman sleeping car at the least. 
Later on, when we had more company, including several 
young ladies, the men retired to the tent while toilets 
were being made, but this time the blankets had to suffice. 
When the children announced themselves ready 1 removed 
some of the screens, and the men tumbled into their berths 
very much as they stood. For this night Nazaire was 
commissioned to look after the heating apparatus, and he 
did it most effectually. How he and Simeon managed to 
sleep in the places allotted to them, on the floor near 



A WINTER EXCURSION. I89 

the stove, I cannot tell. Even we who had the most com- 
fortable places were almost roasted until I got up and 
opened the door and dampened the tire. And this with a 
thermometer at twenty degrees below zero ! If any one 
had feared we should suffer from cold he should have 
been in our cabin that night ; in fact we suffered much 
more from heat than from cold all through our excursion. 
Poor Nazaire was often called from his bed with " Ob ! 
Na^aire, il fait chaud, c'est terrible " (it is terribly hot). 
Even the smallest girl, who knew scarcely any French at 
all, soon learned to say, " Trop cbaitd, Na:(aire, trop 
chaud " (too hot, Nazaire, too hot). 

At length he began to learn that we were not all such 
salamanders as himself. This time the little ones slept 
like tops, and so did I after the cabin got cooled down a 
little. That Nazaire slept there could be no doubt. When 
he goes to sleep he usually announces the fact. 

Going to bed early involves being up betimes, and be- 
fore six the next morning Nazaire had the kettle boiling, 
and coffee was served all round preparatory to breakfast. 
Toilets made, all hands hurried their breakfasts of bread 
and bacon in order to go fishing, for they could have no 
more trout until some were caught. One of the girls, 
however, who had brought her skates, found the smooth 
ice too tempting, and soon deserted us. She afterwards 
caught more trout than any of the others, but this day the 
youngest of all was champion, as she was the most patient 
and enthusiastic of fishers. In the afternoon she kept at 
it until the sun went down, and her trim little figure out 
on that waste of ice and snow made a striking picture, set 
in a frame of dark, wooded hills, and seen in the glow of 
one of our most brilliant sunsets. Some of our winter 
sunsets in Canada are truly magnificent. An artist friend 
who visited us grew enthusiastic ov^r them. He had seen 
14 



190 A WINTER EXCURSION. 

few more beautiful, even in Italy. He went into raptures 
over the absolute purity of the atmosphere and its won- 
derful clearness. 

Our cabin was located for a view of those sunsets both 
in summer and winter. Built on the water's edge and 
facing exactly south as it does, there are two rounded hills 
nearly in front of it whose tree-tops catch the earliest rays 
of the morning sun, while the camp itself is in shadow, 
and the long point on our left throws its shade over half 
the lake until the sun is quite high. We have streaks of 
light over the water in summer and over the snow in win- 
ter that are very beautiful. The contour of the lake is 
extremely irregular, so that the light is constantly changing 
as the sun falls first on one and then on another hill or 
cliff. We never tire of sitting in front of our cabin and 
watching it. 

When a thunderstorm comes up in summer the sight 
is superb. Once Nazaire and I got caught in one. We 
were out in a canoe when we saw it coming, and although 
we paddled as hard as we could, it burst on us before 
we were half way across the lake. 1 never knew it to 
rain harder. We were drenched through in two minutes. 
After that we sat still, paddling along easily and enjoying 
the scene. It did not matter how hard it rained, we could 
not get any wetter. There was no wind at all, but the 
whole surface of the lake, as far as we could see, was one 
great splash, so hard did the big drops come down. It 
was grand to hear the peals of thunder crashing and echo- 
ing from the hills and cliffs. 

But we must return to our winter trip. The little girl 
continued fishing till we were obliged to call her in. It 
looked cold out there, while indoors the cabin was warm 
and cozy, the trout were sizzling in the frying pan, and 
the cpifee stearning in the coffee pot. 



A WINTER EXCURSION. 



191 




Fishing through ice is no sport to your true fisherman, 
although it has some interest when the fish are to form a 
considerable item of your daily food. Trout fishing in 
summer is another thing. Then there is no sport more 
delightful, whether you try with all your skill to throw a 
carefully selected fly under the branches that overhang a 
shady pool where you feel sure some beauty is lying, not 
very hungry but liable to be tempted by a dainty morsel; 
or whether in the early morning you push your canoe out 
into the placid 
lake that the sun, 
just beginning to 
gild the tree-tops, 
has not yet 
touched, to invite 
some of those 
lively fellows that 
you see jumping and sporting just beyond you to come 
in to your breakfast table ; or whether in the afternoon 
you stand on some jutting rock, reached with dii^culty, 
among fierce rapids, and do battle with some noble fish 
that will test all your tackle and all your skill. In all 
these is sport. But in winter there is nothing of them ; 
no sharp rush, no bended rod, no strained line. The fish 
bite lazily and are pulled up easily. If you have a bit of 
the sportsman in you, you will only take what you need 
to eat. 

What with fishing, skating, sliding, cooking, and eating, 
our first day passed quickly. In the evening we played 
casino, the simple and popular game of cards with the 
French Canadians. The children played with Nazaire and 
Simeon, and the mixture of languages was as picturesque to 
hear as the light of our one candle on their faces was to see. 
The purely accidental effect was almost Rembrandtesque. 



192 A WINTER EXCURSION. 

The girls could speak but little French and the men no 
English ; but they made themselves understood, and the 
games were merry. 

Next morning we were surprised to find it blowing a 
gale. The gorgeous sunset of the night before had given 
us no warning of the storm, although Nazaire had ex- 
pressed the opinion that the weather was too fine to last. 
It snowed more or less all day, but the girls fished all the 
same ; and, boisterous as it was, they caught seventy-one 
fine trout, so we had no fear of a famine, 

John's leave of absence expired the next day and he 
was obliged to leave us. We escorted him part way back 
and then left him to Nazaire, to be shown the way to a 
place where a carter with his cariole had been directed to 
meet him. Nazaire undertook to lead him by a short cut 
down a very steep place, and he got some rare tumbles, be- 
ing a heavy man and not used to snowshoes. Nazaire said he 
was sometimes compelled to stand still and roar at John's 
flounderings. He left with Nazaire a challenge to some 
ladies to come down by the same route. Two of them 
accepted it, and probably have not forgotten their expe- 
rience. This day we set up our tent for the extra accom- 
modation, as well as for the cooking, which sometimes 
made the cabin too hot for us. We tramped the snow 
down hard with our snowshoes, pitched the tent, set up 
our little stove, spread branches a foot thick, and made 
everybody comfortable. 

The first visitor to arrive was the surveyor. He was 
capital company, full of interesting anecdotes and experi- 
ences. He had worked in Canadian woods all his life, he 
said, but this was his first surveying party " with picnic at- 
tachment." Heseemed to enjoy the variety. It was amusing 
to hear him tell a story, addressing himself first to Nazaire 



A WINTER EXCURSION. 193 

in French and then continuing to the rest of us in English, 
without stopping to interpret. 

He had passed through many dangers and hardships, 
but the most serious of all was a time when with his whole 
party he was in danger of starvation. 

On their return from a long trip they found that the 
cache where their provisions were hidden had been found 
by a carcajon (wolverine), and that everything was de- 
stroyed. They struggled along on short rations for a few 
days, but some of the men grew weak, and progress was 
slow. It was evident that something must be risked or 
all would perish. My friend and one of the Indians took 
nearly all the remaining provisions, amounting to three 
biscuits each, and started for the nearest house, one hun- 
dred miles away. They reached it just at evening of the 
third day. The surveyor kicked olf his snowshoes at the 
door, threw himself on a bed, and slept sixteen hours. 
When he waked, the Indian had already started back, 
with all the provisions he could carry. He found the men 
just able to drag themselves to a stream for water, and that 
was all ; but the supply of food revived them, and they 
reached the settlement in safety. 

After the storm already mentioned the weather grew 
very cold, ranging mostly from ten to twenty degrees 
below zero, and for several days the thermometer did not 
rise above zero at any time. Our lowest record was 
thirty-eight below. The surveyor, Nazaire, and 1 did what 
we had to do, and the girls amused themselves in the 
cabin. They were perfectly happy and contented, but 
grew tired of fishing. There was much jollity when we 
came back to the cabin at night. Simeon was left in 
charge during the day to bring wood and water, cut holes 
in the ice, work about the camp, and see that no accident 
befell the children. 



194 A WINTER EXCURSION. 

The surveyor left us, and other visitors came thick and 
fast in his place : first, two young ladies, sisters, and their 
two brothers; then our artistic friend and his equally 
artistic wife, and other relatives and friends of our guests 
and ourselves, until the whole extent of our accommoda- 
tions was required. There was no dulness in our camp. 
So many young people, all relatives or intimately ac- 
quainted, and all cheerful and agreeable, could not fail to 
find amusement. There were visits to neighboring lumber 
camps, snowshoe races, and other entertainments, notably 
once a three-legged race in deep snow. 

If one wants a jolly good laugh let him get some of his 
friends to try a three-legged race in two and a half feet of 
snow. But 1 would not advise him to try one himself, 
unless he is young and strong. General hilarity prevailed 
in the short intervals between eating and sleeping times. 
As for cooking times, I think there were no intervals. The 
ladies took that department out of Nazaire's hands and 
kept it in constant, if irregular, operation. A little stirring 
of soup followed by the practising of a dance, songs sung 
between washing the spoons and cleaning the knives, and 
other little fancies such as light-hearted girls might indulge 
in, took up their time, and they were happy. We older 
people read, wrote, talked, or looked on as we felt inclined. 
There was no ennui. It never came near Lake Clair to 
my knowledge, although Nazaire and 1 have spent many 
days there quite alone. 

Of music there was no lack. Our man Simeon proved 
to be a capital singer as well as a violinist. His was not 
the ordinary voice of the Canadian woodsman, a mere 
head-tone used at a very high pitch, but a real baritone, 
and used in a manner that one of our visitors, who ought 
to know, said would not disgrace a city concert-room. 
How he came by such a style 1 cannot tell. He never 



A WINTER EXCURSION. 195 

could have heard a really first-class singer in his life. It 
was one of those things that, like reading and writing, 
"come by nature." 

He gave us such fine songs as '' Le drapeaii de Caril- 
lion," " Le Zouave en Algerie," and many others not less 
worthy. 

Singularly enough, he was not well acquainted with the 
words of the common popular songs mentioned elsewhere, 
such as "y4 la claire foiitaifie," and the like, that almost 
every one knows, so we got none of them from him. We 
had a variety of these, however, one evening a little later, 
sung in true lumberman fashion, high and loud, without 
the least expression, by an accidental visitor to whom we 
gave shelter. 

Some of the ladies also were singers, and their con- 
tributions ranged all the way from the most absurd college 
songs to " Lascia ch' io pianga " and Reinecke's " Walde- 
gruss," very prettily sung. 

Our guests having almost all departed, my little girls 
went home one day by the long route, leaving two young 
ladic-s to go with me by the short cut that John had chal- 
lenged them to follow. Naz lire took our extra wraps 
and went on ahead. As we crossed the lake and looked 
back at our deserted cabin 1 am not sure but one of the 
girls shed a few quiet tears, thinking of the pleasant week 
she had passed, and that she was not likely ever to see 
the place again. At any rate both of them walked on 
some time in silence, and I heard none of the accustomed 
cheerful laughter and girlish chatT, usually so plentiful 
between those two. Many parties have visited our camp 
since then, but 1 think none have enjoyed so much pure 
and unalloyed pleasure as this first party of all. 

But Nazaire was far ahead, and we were obliged to 
follow. When we came to the place where the path 



196 A WINTER EXCURSION. 

diverges there was a discussion as to whether we should 
accept our friend John's challenge to go down by the 
way he went, or take the longer and less interesting road 
around the side c . -f hill. Of course the discussion re- 
sulted in acceptance;; for the girls declared that if John 
could go down so could they. Nazaire was waiting for 
us and assured us that there was no positive danger, 
although the way was " Men, bien a pic " (very, very 
steep). 

He had already been down with his pack and come 
back by the road. We rested a little and then followed 
him. It was " bien, bien a pic," sure enough. 1 myself was 
the first to come to grief. Trying to get over some fallen 
timber 1 made a misstep and pitched headlong. Head 
and arms went deep into the soft snow, and heels high 
into the air, with the snowshoes dangling. My cap and 
whatever 1 had in my hands went away down the hill. 
In such a position one flounders about a good deal before 
he can get his feet under him ; but one of the girls man- 
aged to climb down and lend a hand towards helping 
me up. 

We all reached the foot of the hill in safety, and after 
discussing and rejecting a proposition to go back and try 
the descent again, we went on. Nazaire assured us we 
had tumbled much less than John, which was a satisfac- 
tion ; but John will not believe it to this day. Anyway, 
if he got a worse tumble than 1, it was a lively fall. 

From there to the bank of the river was an excellent 
road, and nearly all down hill. We passed the lumber- 
men's camp without stopping ; but we were quite willing to 
stop and rest again by the logs, as we had done going up. 
The place was quite exposed and rather cold, so we walked 
on down the river ; but there was a strong wind and the 



A WINTER EXCURSION. 



197 



walking was not as good as before. If it seemed tiiree 
miles going up, it seemed six going down. 

Our cariole arrived a few minutes after us, and an 
hour's ride found us all at home ag 

So ended our first winter campii.j^ expedition, and all 
voted that it had been one of thorough pleasure. All 
declared they would go again if they ever had the oppor- 
tunity. 

Winter camping is preferable to summer in that there 
are no troublesome flies or mosquitoes, and that it is easy 
going through the woods on snowshoes. The summer 
gives many delights 
that winter does 
not ; but each sea- 
son has its charm. 

Every one of my 
party professes his 
or her willingness 
to go to Lake Clair 
again at any time. 

We were reading 
some glowing ac- 
counts of the winter _ 
paradise of South- 
ern California. One 
of the little girls said, " Lake Clair is our winter paradise ; " 
and so we call it. 

It is our grand sanitarium. Whatever little maladies we 
have are usually left there. Influenza, neuralgia, rheum- 
atism, or malarial complaints seldom find their way back 
from Lake Clair. 

Since the time of this first family visit to Lake Clair 
our cabin has been much enlarged, and every year we 
have a number of guests. We have not the luxurious 




198 



A WINTER EXCURSION. 



accommodations of the modern fishing club ; but we have 
enough to furnish all essential comforts for visitors, as 
well as for my own limited requirements in winter. 

Of course we do considerable fishing in summer and 
equally of course we have all sorts of luck. Sometimes 
after much canoeing, walking, wading, and hard work 
generally, we get but little for our pains, and at other times 
when our hopes and expectations are low we strike a good 
bit of sport. One thing 1 will say for ourselves,— we 
never waste any fish. When we get as many as we can 




use, we stop fishing. And although we never get any fish 
big enough to tell lies about in the newspapers, we seldom 
fail to catch enough for our next meal. 

Among our summer visitors at the lake we have a good 
many ladies. Of course they all think they can take fish 
as well as anybody, and we always give them a chance to 
try. But it is as difficult for a woman to throw a fly as it is 
for her to throw a stone. 1 at times try to give them a few 
lessons in the art, taking good care, however, to pull my 
hat well down over my eyes and ears, to avoid accidents. 
Ladies need a good deal of practice before they can handle 



A WINTER EXCURSION. 



199 



a fly rod with even moderate certainty or safety. I keep 
a couple of rods especially for ladies' use.. They are not 
allowed to disport themselves with my own particular pet 
tackle. Perhaps it is a little mean of me, but 1 think that 
a good stout rod and worn-out flies are just as good to 
frighten trout with as any others. 

They rarely accomplish much, for what with untangling 
their lines, getting their hooks out of their own and 
their neighbors' hair and dresses and their own fingers, 
there is not much time left for other departments of the 
sport. So far as the real taking of trout is concerned, 
I doubt if it is any advantage to have ladies in the party. 
I have known a very inexperienced fisherman to take his 
rod and net, go away alone and bring back a very hand- 
some string of fish ; when a far more practised hand, who 
took a lady with him, came back with scarcely any fish 
at all. It was a lovely afternoon for fishing, too : soft and 
cloudy, with a light breeze blowing, that made all the 
trees wave their branches as if in benediction. Still, there 
was fully as much excitement in our camp that evening 
as if those two persons had brought in all the trout they 
could carry. 













?;^ ■'- 












U^-.^ jA 



<v^^ 



•^^<=>^ 



V 



c*-. 



'^o ,^•' 



■'-Cr. .<\^^ 



,.^^v 



o o; 






o 0^ 



>^, v.^' 



-5. ,<^ * -r- 



